Something Entirely Different
--Willa Shakespeare
Vila was feeling rather low-spirited. Things just weren't the same around Liberator now that Blake and Jenna were gone. Dayna and
Tarrant were actually quite acceptable substitutes from an aesthetic point of view (and wouldn't Vila's mum wash his mouth right out with
nasty yellow soap if she caught him thinking like an Alpha. 'Don't use the big words, unless you can make them laugh at you, Vila. There's
another name for 'clever Delta'- it's 'dead'.)
So, well, he'd quite fancy either of them, if they weren't so bright and shiny with the arrogance of youth.
Cally was sweet, but she didn't seem to understand 'needs'. Avon probably didn't even admit there were such things. So now it was only
Vila being human and lonely all the time.
Blake and Jenna, now... well, on the flight deck it had been all business, but if a fellow went around looking particularly wistful and
needy, it had been usually good for a bit. Maybe they both had eyes for someone else, but being available and warm and friendly and
cooperative counts for a lot with practical people, and underneath it all, Blake and Jenna were very practical.
Still and all, Vila was practical too. They were gone, and apparently not coming back, even though Avon had surprised Vila by how hard he
looked for Blake. And Jenna did have some very nice Altairian brandy in her cabin, last time Vila looked. It was probably still there.
It wouldn't warm him as well as Jenna, but it would be something.
Avon had locked both Blake's and Jenna's cabins. Vila had approved, not particularly liking the idea of either of the new crew curiously
poking about. Vila bypassed the lock and swept into the room. The light was already on, but dim. Vila wondered for a moment if Jenna had left
it set that way for a romantic interlude with Blake which was interrupted by Star One.
Something rustled in the gloom.
Vila turned to the source of the sound, and froze. His jaw dropped and he swallowed. "J...J..Jhhh... Jenna?" he squeaked, staring at the
floor and working his way up as his brain whirled on encountering high-heeled lavender suede boots, tight-fitting purple suede trousers,
flower-petalled blouse, long golden-blonde curls cascading around a beautifully made-up face, rouge highlighting already high cheekbones,
lipstick reddening a perfect bow-shaped mouth, eyeliner making already beautiful brown eyes even more dramatic.
The beautiful eyes narrowed, and the perfect mouth opened. "Get out, Vila," Avon said.
Vila backed two steps, and then he noticed what was lying on the bed - a bolster pillow wearing a curly brown wig, one of Blake's floppy
sleeved tunics, and a pair of fawn suede trousers. Vila thought about it for a moment, then went to the door, locked it, and turned back to
Avon, unbuttoning his tunic as he returned. "I like playing dress-up, too," he announced, and was rewarded as Avon suddenly smiled.