“All hands—report to the bridge for re-entry,” the ship’s computer says loudly.

The noise wakes me up from the deepest sleep of my life. My body feels sluggish—heavy. Even my fingers resist my attempts to move them. I sigh. It really has been too long since I had to push myself if that fight was enough to put me into a state like this. To be fair to myself, however, Fianna’s restrictions also dampen neural strain considerably, even for basic sorties. It’s only natural that being in that environment was going to dull my edge.

Gráinne isn’t in bed with me, her presence sorely missed. I grab one of my stuffed animals, a white wolf, and cuddle it to my chest. I can’t help wondering how it even managed to stay on the bed after what Gráinne and I got up to a few hours ago. As my brain slowly catches up, I realize I feel remarkably clean, which isn’t a feeling I should have. I run my fingers along my stomach—no trace of bodily fluids.

She must have cleaned me up.

The thought makes my eyes water; I choke back a sob. My fingers grip the stuffed wolf tight; I lift it to my eyes and cry into it. It’s not the first time this particular stuffed animal has caught my tears. My thoughts run away from me. Flashes of what Gráinne did to me, did for me, race across my mind—her breath on my neck, her hands on my hips. There’s not been a time in my life where I ever felt safe enough to allow that to happen with a partner. Not until now, until her.

Even so, there is a terrible emptiness in me—sorrow that feels impossible to articulate. Why? It was perfect. She was perfect. So why do I feel this hole in my chest? I reach between my thighs, running my fingers along my shaft and burst into uncontrollable sobs.

Right. This shit again.  

Bottom augmentation has crossed my mind before, but I’ve never felt such intense emotions until now. I’ve never broken down into a mess of sobs because I don’t have a pussy. The opposite, in fact; I’ve always liked my cock, thought it was pretty, and it feels good to use. Yet, I can’t help but feel that as perfect as being fucked by Gráinne was, I would have preferred to have a cunt; to experience sex like that with someone I trust.

“All hands—report to the bridge for re-entry.”

A few deep breaths to clear my head before I drag myself out of bed. I’m annoyed by this post sex, post sortie revelation, but I suppose it’s better to know. We’re going to Earth, and this is something I can get done while we’re there. I missed out on that this time, but it’s not as if it was going to be the only occasion that I’d let Gráinne put a leash around my neck and rail me into the mattress. That thought makes me smile.

Everything is fine—for me, and for people in Central. For too many others across this shithole of a galaxy, life is needlessly cruel and difficult. One day I will make it fine for all of them, too; if it takes me ten thousand years, I will not rest until people can live the lives they deserve.

Somehow, through the soreness of my muscles, the stiffness in my joints, I manage to get dressed. My choice in outfit more like pajamas than actual clothes. Very cute, very short black shorts, black socks with white stripes that come up just above my knee, and the biggest, poofiest black hoodie I own. I don’t bother tying my hair back. I simply brush out the tangles and part it to the side. The strands fall to my knees. My hair is, truthfully, at a ridiculous length, but it makes me happy.

“All hands—report to the bridge for re-entry.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I grumble. “Calm your tits.”

The com buzzes. “We can orbit if you need a bit longer to rest,” mother says. “I don’t think anyone minds if you need the rest.”

“No, no. I’m dressed,” I say. “Thank you, though.”

“Of course.” Mother pauses. “Are you alright, Dia? Besides the exhaustion.”

“We can talk about it when I come up,” I reply.

“See you soon.” The com shuts off.

Walking to the bridge helps, the movement loosening my muscles and relaxing my nerves. By the time I arrive, I feel much better than when I woke up. Gráinne, Layla, and Quinn are talking with one another, sharing a laugh at a joke I didn’t hear. It’s wonderful to see them smile.

“Yo,” I say, offering a lazy wave.

Gráinne looks up, her smile broadening. “You look cute like this,” she says, her violet eyes raking across me.

I grin. “Thanks. These are my lazy clothes.” I take a seat, strapping myself in to prepare for the re-entry to Earth’s atmosphere.

“Everyone ready?” mom asks, sitting at the helm.

“Yes,” we all say.

It takes only a few minutes to get past the worst of the upper atmosphere, but the energy shield around the ship protects us from the spike in heart. The ship also comes with state-of-the-art stabilizers, making the decent smooth.

“It’s safe to get up now,” mother says after we have breached the troposphere. “You won’t be able to see much until we get below the clouds, but there will be a lot to see as we come into port.”

I’m too tired to get up, but Layla and Quinn are quick to rush to the windows to look as we pass over snowcapped peaks. Gráinne stands but comes over to me instead, resting a hand on my shoulder.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

She smiles, leans down, and presses her lips to my forehead. “It’s my privilege. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.” I squeeze her hand. “By the time we get to Central City, I’ll be fine. I’m excited for you to see my home—I miss my apartment.” I pull her hand to my lips, kissing her fingers softly. “We should ride on the trains while we’re here, too. You can take them around the globe from Central Station.”

“Trains that go around the globe?” She’s incredulous, her brow knitting together. “That can’t be.”

I can’t help but chuckle. “You’ll see, Princess. There are a lot of things on Earth that’ll shock you. Go look with the others and you’ll see some on our way in.”

“I love trains,” she says softly. “For your sake, this had better not be a prank. I would be very disappointed.”

“Go look outside!” I swat at her ass, smiling brightly at her. “You’re missing so many things, my love.”

Her cheeks turn red, she bites her lip. “Hmph.” She turns away without another word, swaying her hips more than usual as she walks over to the window.

I sense eyes on me. Mother is staring at me with her brow arched. Mom chuckles but says nothing, keeping most of her attention on flying the ship.

“The two of you are cute,” she says. “Do you want to talk about what you were upset about earlier?”

“I wasn’t…” I sigh; there was no use in lying. “I thought about bottom augmentation again, but it was really intense today.” I glance at Gráinne, a simper forming on my lips.

“Ah,” mother says. “That happens. Sorry, my dear. Are you going to pursue it?”

“Yes.” Sighing, I gather my hair up and run my fingers through it. “But it’s complicated. I don’t hate what I have now.”

“You don’t have to for it to be right for you,” she says. “Just feeling more comfortable is enough, you know? Besides, there are options to preserve your current… um… bits. Have you done research?”

“No,” I say. “It’s not something I’ve given that much thought, but now you’ve got me curious.” I have always been able to appreciate how I can just have these matter-of-fact conversations with my parents, especially my mother.

She pulls out her datapad, taps at the screen a few times. It makes a soft beep, and then she puts it away. “I sent you some information about a recently developed procedure. Of the options I know of, it’s the one I think will suit you best. If not, there are a lot of methods.” She stands up, walks over to me, and wraps her arms around my shoulders. “I am sorry it caused you distress. It happens to me sometimes, too, and I’m ancient. Dysphoria is awful.”

I roll my eyes as I embrace my mother. “Shut up.” I cling tight to her for a moment. “You’re not old.”

She chuckles aloud. “I am very old, in fact, but thank you. You’ll be okay, and as always, your mom and I are here for you.”

Releasing her, I wipe my watering eyes and nod. “I know, I just thought I had everything sorted out, and then…” I glance over at Gráinne. “Things change.”

“I can relate to that,” she says, brushing my hair out of my face. “A new situation can make us reevaluate our relationship to our own bodies or reveal something hidden. Just make sure that whatever you do to deal with the dysphoria is what you want; what makes you feel most at home with yourself.”

Those are familiar words—words she’s said to me all my life. “I will. Thank you.”

She kisses the top of my head before turning to go sit in Mom’s lap at the helm. They share a kiss and exchange a few words. Mom looks back at me, flashing me a sympathetic smile. I return the smile, feeling a wave of exhaustion hit me again.

I shut my eyes for what only feels like a moment before I’m gently shaken. “Hm?”

“We’re here,” Gráinne says sweetly. “You fell asleep.”

***

Dia holds my hand as we disembark the Danu. We exit outside, a short path in front of us leads into the massive space port. It’s overwhelming, being on Earth. I’ve dreamed of this moment most of my life and now my feet are touching solid ground on the birthplace of humanity.

“I’m here,” I whisper. “Gods, I’m finally here.”

“Welcome,” she says through a brilliant grin. “Seeing your face right now is priceless.”

I don’t bother to hide my blush. “I’m glad you think so.”

“So, here’s the plan,” Maeve says, loudly enough to get the attention of everyone. “V and I are going to stay behind and finalize transporting the mechs to the workshop. I suggest you all get some rest before exploring the city or riding any trains.”

Dia chuckles. “I’ll play tour guide and host. My home has two rooms, if the two of you don’t mind sharing a bed.” She looks at Layla and Quinn.

“Nope!” Quinn exclaims rather quickly. “Not a problem at all.”

Layla looks a bit surprised. Her cheeks flush, and a subtle smile appears on her face. “That’s perfect,” she says.

“Wonderful.” Dia squeezes my hand. “Let’s head out. I’m sure everyone is tired after traveling.”

We exchange goodbyes with her parents for now, and Dia guides us through the port. The building is massive, far bigger than the spaceport on my home world. The inside is colorful and well lit. I also notice a remarkable lack of stairs.

What really takes me aback, however, are the people. Smiles on every one of their faces. Joy abounds. A woman with a tail… “Dia! Why does she have a tail?” I ask, pointing rather rudely. “And… are those cat ears on her head?”

Layla and Quinn share in my surprise, but Dia laughs good-naturedly. I feel mortified by my behavior, sheepishly rubbing the back of my neck.

“Ah, sorry,” I say. “I’m just surprised.”

“Body modifications, including animal ears, tails and even fur, are… well, I won’t say extremely common, but they are rather normal.” Dia smirks. “Like my wolf fangs.”

“And… you can just go to a surgeon and have this done?” I ask, knitting my brows together. I touch the top of my head, running my fingers through my hair. “That’s incredible. H-how long is the wait for something like that?” I look up at Dia, trying not to get my hopes up.

“People have the right to augment their body however they wish,” she says, smiling warmly. “And there are a lot of excellent surgeons who make sure people can. The wait isn’t too long. A week or so.”

I glance at the woman, who thankfully did not see my outburst. She’s with her partner, grinning and laughing. Her tail sways behind her and her ears wiggle when she laughs. Her partner likewise has modifications done to his body. Neither of them gets any ill looks from those who pass them by. My eyes flit around the terminal. I notice many others now that I know what to look for. As Dia said, it’s not anywhere near the majority of the people surrounding us, but there is a noticeable amount of people with animal ears, tails, and even eyes.

Truly, I am on a different planet with an entirely different culture. That this exists fills me with relief and joy and a touch of rage. None of this has ever been possible for me, for my people. It isn’t fair or right. I look back at Dia, gazing into her snow-white eyes—truly, she has saved me in ways I cannot even begin to articulate.

“Do you want to become a catgirl?” Dia asks. “It can be reversed if you don’t like it.”

“Yes,” I say, coming out of my thoughts. I blush, looking down at my feet. “Though it doesn’t feel like a decision I should make lightly.” I press the tips of my fingers together, struggling to gather my words. “And—I’ve always feared going under the knife, despite my already extensive augmentation.”

“We could get it done together,” she offers. “There’s something I want to get done anyhow and I would like to complete my wolfish look. Especially after…” she trails off, her cheeks turning a touch red. “Anyway. I’d get it done with you.”

“I think you’d look adorable,” Layla chimes in. “If my opinion matters at all. Can’t say I want them for me, but I think you would look great.”

I look at Quinn, my brows furrowed. She senses my unasked question, tilting her head. She walks over to me and makes a box around my head with her hands as if she is taking measurements.

“It would look very… you,” she says finally. “Especially nice, pointy cat ears. Plus, and this is maybe a petty reason to suggest it, but it would be an amazing act of defiance for the imperial princess to do illegal aesthetic body augmentation.”

Dia nods several times at this. “Quinn, you’ve really broken out of your shell, do you know that?”

“It’s nice having friends that listen to me,” she says, “And who encourage me to take up space.”

I pull her into a hug. “I’m glad,” I say to her, “and thank you for the advice. You’re right, it would be an act of defiance.” I step away from Quinn, glancing back at Dia. “Alright. Let’s do it. What else did you want done?”

Dia winks at me and flashes me one of her dangerous smirks, the one that makes my knees feel weak. “It’s a surprise.”

---

I sit on a barstool in Dia’s kitchen, resting my elbows on the countertop, in nothing but panties and one of her shirts. On me, the shirt may as well be a dress; it smells like her, too—understated blackberry and lily, sweet and spicy. I sip at my cup of coffee, which she made—perfectly—for me, and watch with rapt attention as she flips pancakes in a skillet.

Just to torture me; she has decided to be topless and is wearing only the tiniest of shorts. Her long white hair is tied up in a tight bun, exposing her back. Should I focus on her taut muscles, her years of accumulated scars, or the tattoos that spread out like vines across her body? Unable to decide, I look everywhere, devouring her with my eyes.

Gods, she is the most incredible creature to exist.

“Should you really be naked?” I ask behind my cup, doing my best to use it to hide my flushed cheeks. “Won’t you get burned?”

“It’s a risk that I’m willing to take, Princess.” She turns to peek at me, that damn smirk on her face. “It’s your first morning on Earth; I’m duty bound to make it as perfect as possible.”

I giggle, biting at my lip. “You really are my perfect, pretty wolf.”

She blushes, her pale skin doing her no favors in hiding her reaction.

Victory!

“Careful, Princess—I might skip breakfast and eat you.” She flashes her fangs at me, still able to skillfully cook even while her eyes are on me.

It is not fair how attractive she is while she cooks. “I think you’d lack the energy without a proper meal, Wolf.”

“Keep that up and you’ll find out.”

I bite my lip harder. If I were not so hungry, I would bait her more, drive her feral with irritation and earn myself another smack on my rear. She has only spanked me once, albeit it was a light, playful smack. Being very honest with myself, I would like her to do it again—and definitely while I am naked.

She pulls the skillet off the heat, sliding three pancakes out onto a plate. They are thick, fluffy and look altogether delicious. She tops them with sweet syrup and a slice of butter. She hands the plate to me, along with cutlery. Her breasts are on full display, practically in my face.

“Princess?” She smirks.

I’ve forgotten to breathe and am just staring at her.

“Right.” My face feels hot, as if it will combust at any moment. Doing my utmost to calm myself, I take a bite of the pancake. It’s divine—delicious enough to distract me from her radiance. “Mm. You were right; this is far better than what you could cook at Fianna. I can understand your frustration.”

“I’m glad I can cook for you properly.” She kisses my forehead, lingering for a moment while her fingers brush through my hair.

I take another blissful bite, the syrup and butter mixing along with the subtle sweetness of the pancake. I moan, in part at the taste and texture of the food, and in part to tease my wolf. “Mmm. Cook for me forever?”

“Of course.”

I grab at her, pulling her in for a kiss. It’s awkward with the countertop in the way, but we manage, our lips pressed firmly together. I open my mouth, sticking my tongue into hers so that she can taste her cooking on me. She groans softly.

“Hmph,” she says. “I can see you’re already embracing your inner catgirl.” She pats my head.

Heat rises to my cheeks. I smirk and take another bite.

Her datapad makes a chirping noise. The sound draws her attention away. She pulls it over to her while I eat, tapping her long fingers across the touchscreen.

“No way,” she says, her tone betraying shock and eagerness.

“What?” I tilt my head curiously, waiting for her to divulge whatever is causing her to smile.

“My doctor, Tessa—She’s told me she has room for us if we can make it today.”

“That’s amazing! You said it may take a week,” I say, not bothering to hold back my excitement. “Layla and Quinn already left for the library, and they have the codes to get back in?” 

“They do,” she says. “The only thing we need to do is eat quickly, catch the next train, and fill out the paperwork on the way. You’re spared from me devouring you this morning.”

I look at her through hooded eyes. “Maybe,” I say, batting my eyelashes at her. “How long is the train ride? Does it have a private booth?”

“Yes.”

---

Gráinne and I wait in silence for Tessa. The paperwork somehow got done on the way here. How we managed that and fooling around on the train is beyond me, but here we are. Gráinne reaches for my hand, giving it a tight squeeze.

“Nervous?” I ask.

“A little,” she says. “But also, I’m just happy. This is the first time I’m augmenting myself just… for the sake of it? Just for me? It’s not tied to survival or freedom. It’s just something I want to get done because the idea of it brings me joy.” She lifts my hand to her lips and gives my fingertips a lingering kiss. “Thank you for doing it with me.”

The door slides open, Tessa steps through. She takes a long look between the two of us. “I had a feeling you’d come back to me for ears one day,” Tessa says, smirking. “Didn’t think you’d bring a fiancée, but I knew you’d be back at least.”

The two of us have always had a rather close bond, an easy-going familiarity. She’s cut her hair since last I saw her. It’s shoulder length now, but still very purple.

I chuckle. “It’s nice to see you again too, Tessa. I like the hair.”

“Thank you,” she says. She has a seat in front of us. “So, the two of you are here about augmenting your ears and adding on tails. Cat for Miss MacAirt and wolf for you, Miss Mirren?”

“Yes,” Gráinne says brightly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she says. “A pleasure, really. You’re in expert hands.” Tessa smiles, folding her hands in her lap. “Oh, and Dia, I arranged your other operation. Your surgery will take a few hours longer and you’ll need to spend an extra eight hours in the tank.”

“The tank?” Gráinne asks, tilting her head to the side.

“The recovery tank,” Tessa says. “You get submerged in a vat of liquid that speeds up external healing and helps the body accept cybernetics. There’s always a slight risk of rejection and this minimizes that.”

“Oh,” Gráinne says softly. “That’s not a common practice where I am from.”

Tessa furrows her brows. “I see.” She shakes her head. “Well, it is here. Your theater time is booked just after this. I always meet my patients beforehand to make sure they are comfortable and to answer any last-minute questions.”

“None for me, doc,” I say. “I read through the literature and I’m sure about it.”

“Well, I didn’t think you would,” she replies warmly. She turns to look at Gráinne, folding one leg over the other.

“I’m sure,” Gráinne says, her tone somewhat nervous. “I mean, I’ve had whole organs replaced and I’m at least as much machine as human. I’ve just never had something done that shows. I wonder if I’ll miss my normal ears, I suppose.”

Tessa quickly scribbles down some notes. “You might. Body dysmorphia after an operation is common. You go from seeing yourself one way to another all at once and it can take a bit for the brain to adjust to the new self-image.” She smiles reassuringly. “If that causes you serious distress, you come back, and we reverse the whole procedure. Visually, you won’t notice anything different from now in that case. I take exact measurements, and note every detail, even little scars you might not know you have.”

Gráinne smiles then. “I feel even better about going through with this.”

“Perfect,” Tessa says. “I’ll go over the operation briefly. I know you’ve both read, but I have to do this. For the ears, I’ll use a variation on synth-skin, including synthetic muscles for the ear. Texturally, they feel like the animal ear of choice. In case you’re wondering, they will be quite sensitive to being touched.”

She displays an anatomical diagram to us on her datapad, showing us a woman with a shaved head and feline ears attached at the parietal bone. Her acoustic meatus is gone, giving her skull an uncanny appearance with no hair. The diagram shows that new ear canals are made, running through the parietal bone, and intersecting with a human’s natal auditory anatomy.

“Do you fill the entrance of the old ear canal so that it doesn’t cause issues?” I ask, already knowing the answer but I’m curious about the process anyway.

“Exactly. It’ll be like it doesn’t exist. The way you hear as a result will be different, the additional muscles in the ear along with the structure of it and the new eardrum will make your hearing far more sensitive than your natal ears. This has its benefits and drawbacks, as one might expect.”

“That makes sense,” Gráinne says through an excited smile. “It’s a bit odd to look at but I’m sure with hair it’s fine.”

“Quite right,” Tessa says. “Here.” She flips to an image now—one without the anatomy and shows us the same woman but with hair. She flips through several images, showcasing different hairstyles from long hair to pixie cuts that strategically hide where the former ears would have been. “Look good?” she asks.

“Definitely,” I say.

Gráinne nods eagerly. “Extremely cute.”

She adjusts in her seat, glancing between the two of us. “Like I said, it’ll take some getting used to, but most patients are extremely happy with how much more expressive they feel they can be because of the extra ear muscles; the superior hearing is a bonus.”

“Useful as pilots, too,” Gráinne says. “Well, maybe not when we’re in the mech where it doesn’t matter but in other combat situations.”

“Like an angry future mother-in-law sending a very good assassin after you,” I say, rubbing my head.

“You know what… I won’t ask,” Tessa says, giving us both wary look. She flips to a new image, showing us the same woman with a cat tail attached at the tailbone. “Moving on—the tail will be fully cybernetic. You will be able to move it freely and expressively. It’ll be covered by synth-skin, also very sensitive to touch, and capable of growing fur. Reportedly it’s quite pleasant to brush. Just be careful with bumping it. The fur will grow and shed continuously, and I will connect the synth-skin to your body’s blood supply. It’s a part of you. Your balance will improve once you’ve gotten used to it, but you may notice you’re clumsy at first.”

As Tessa talks, I can see Gráinne’s eyes get wider and wider. She taps her foot rapidly as she takes all this in, and her smile broadens. When the time comes for Tessa to give me the details on my bottom augmentation, I ask Gráinne to leave the room. I was nervous she’d be upset that I am being so tight-lipped about the surgery, but she isn’t—not in the slightest. We share a kiss; she ruffles my hair as she leaves.

“See you soon,” she says. “Love you.”

When she is gone, I turn my gaze towards Tessa, who has the biggest shit-eating grin on her face.

“Well, well, well. Diarmuid Mirren is getting domestic,” she says. “Truly incredible.”

I fold my arms over my chest, staring at her.

“I mean it as a good thing,” she says. “I’ve known you most of your life, and you are the wildest woman I’ve ever met." She chuckles. “Though, I suppose you still are. That girl’s mother tried to kill you? That’s very… Dia.”

“Hmph,” I reply, narrowing my eyes. “Do we really need to go over all the details for the operation?”

She smirks. “Afraid so. I know being ethical can be tedious for people so used to flying by the seat of their pants, but it is what it is.” She scoots her chair back and dims the lights in the room. A projector comes on from the ceiling, and a diagram of my body appears on the wall. “First things first, this is a very new technique. Creating interchangeable cybernetic genitals that mimic natal genitals is a new frontier.”

“I know,” I say, crossing my right leg over the left. “Sorry. You have to do the thing.”

“Yes,” she says, taking a laser pointer and highlighting the affected areas. “Essentially, we hollow out the pubic region, create an insert that attaches to your nerves and allows you to slot in your desired bits. There will be a small seam.”

She shows me a projected after image of what I’ll look like once the surgery is complete. I stand up to take a closer look. Side-by-side images of a woman with a vulva and penis are displayed, and like she said, there is a faint but noticeable seam where the genitalia slot into the body. I smirk. “Is it odd that I find that sort of attractive and affirming in and of itself? Can we make it more pronounced even? I almost feel trying to hide it makes it worse, but we can stylize it a bit and it’ll be cute.”

Tessa grins. “It’s not odd at all. A few of my patients have said the same thing. Especially you mech pilots.” She shakes her head. “I can make the seam more pronounced and stylized; that’s not a problem.” She clears her throat. “One more thing—this is becoming an increasingly popular thing: exotic penises are being made to fit this augmentation. I, however, will make you bits that match your current configuration. If you want something else, you’ll have to procure it yourself. As far as your neo-vagina is concerned, however, you have some options for aesthetic, depth, etcetera.” She showcases some examples.

It only takes me a few moments to choose what I’d like. I’ve always had a fairly good sense of how I’d like to look if I ever got this operation. It feels surreal to actually be here, but Tessa’s easygoing nature makes it easy—it’s why she’s the best.

“Perfect,” she says once we’re done, and having taken copious amounts of notes. “Just wait until you feel fully healed before having sex. Between your augmented healing factor and the tank, you should walk out of here just fine, but you know yourself best. Don’t rush.”

“Will I need to dilate?” I quirk a brow.

“It wouldn’t hurt,” she says. “I would take it easy your first time having penetrative sex, as it’ll be an entirely novel sensation, but the synth-muscles make it easier.” Tessa smiles warmly, taking a deep breath. “Some other things that are relevant to you and your fiancée. This form of augmentation can make it much easier for trans people to impregnate a partner. The neo-testicles don’t rely on hormones to produce viable gametes. Is that—”

“No,” I say firmly. “I do not want that. I have no intention of having children in any capacity. None.”

Tessa makes another note. “I’ll turn that setting off. That is everything you need to know. Any last questions?”

“No,” I say, returning the smile.

“I’ll come get you when the theater is fully ready. See you soon.”

I thank her again for seeing so quickly as I walk out of her office and into the waiting room. There aren’t many people here, but one sticks out immediately to me—She’s got medium length blue hair, shaved close on her left side, and blue eyes to match. She’s talking with Gráinne, sharing a laugh. She looks vaguely familiar to me, but I’m blanking on where I’ve seen her before. That’s unusual; I never forget a face.

“Greetings,” I say cheekily, leaning against the wall nearby.

Gráinne looks at me, instantly reaching out to take my hand in hers. “Hey.” She looks towards her talking companion. “Dia, this is Sif. We just met.”

“I know who she is,” Sif replies. “We were in the same pilot program together back in the day.”

I snap my fingers with my free hand. “I thought I recognized you. You didn’t go by Sif back then,” I say, fighting back a grin. “Glad to see your egg finally hatched. Exploded even. You look great.”

“Egg?” Gráinne asks, her face betraying how confused she is.

“It’s a joke,” Sif replies. “I’m not really sure where it originated from, but it’s just always been what’s been said about women like Dia and me before we figure things out.”

“Oh!” Gráinne says brightly. “That makes sense. When did you two last see one another?”

“Three years ago,” I say. “You were still fighting for second place in the simulator.”

Sif folds her arms over her chest, scrunching up her face. “Don’t get smug.”

“You know me.” I chuckle softly. “I’m still a little shit. It’s fantastic to see you, Sif. I knew you’d make a gorgeous, gorgeous girl.”

She rolls her eyes. “Whatever. What are you two here for?” Sif lifts a brow.

“Cat ears and a tail for me,” Gráinne says, not quite able to hold back her enthusiasm. Her eyes are practically sparkling.

“Wolf for me, and bottom augmentation. It’s time,” I say.

Gráinne turns to look at me, her face soft. “That’s the surprise?”

“Yeah,” I say. “I didn’t want to say until it was happening, in case I changed my mind after hearing what Tessa had to say.”

She squeezes my hand. “Happy for you.”

Sif regards the two of us for a moment, her brow knit together. “When’s the wedding?”

“We haven’t actually booked a venue or set a date,” Gráinne says quickly. “It’s my first time on Earth—to Central at all, even. I want to just take it all in for a while.”

“Makes perfect sense to me,” Sif replies. “Well, I hope to get an invite.”

“Of course. Send me your new details,” I tell her. “And come around for dinner soon. There’s an idea I have that I want to pitch to a few people I know would be a good fit. This is serendipitous.”

She keeps her arms folded in front of her chest for a moment, the gears turning in her head. “It’s something insane, isn’t it?”

“Always.”

Sif scoffs. “Alright. I’ll reach out soon. Take care, you two,” she says, giving us a lazy two fingered wave. “Suppose it is fortuitous I just had some augmentation done myself if you’re up to old tricks. See you around.”

“Miss Mirren, Miss MacAirt,” Tessa’s assistant calls for us. “We’re ready for you now.”