Chapter 12: Suitable Attire

The next day, Steven greeted Yemi in the lobby and was thankful to see that he wasn’t hungover. He seemed more cheerful than usual, reinforcing the notion that a little time off had done him a world of good. The flock greeted Steven with their usual excitement, flashing their feathers and chiming their good mornings.

“How did you and Yemi get on last night?” Ezi asked, leaning over her desk as she gave him a flutter of inquisitive yellow.

“What’s he like when he’s not at work?” Tilli added. “We’ve only ever spoken to him at the office.”

“And I think that’s the way he wanted it, for the most part,” Steven replied as he made his way over to his usual seat. “We had a good time, shared some stories with Joseph, ate some good food and had a little to drink.”

“Yemi drinks?” Ezi giggled.

“Speaking of which, are you still coming with us to shop for suits?” Ipal asked. “I feel as though we’ve barely seen you the last couple of days.”

“I spend literally all day with you guys,” he scoffed.

“At work,” Tilli added.

“Yes, I’m still going shopping with you,” he replied with a smirk. “I know better than to disrupt your almighty schedule.”

“Did you remember to eat breakfast this morning?” Mima asked with a flutter of concern.

“Actually, no,” he admitted. “I was up pretty late last night shopping for socks.”

“Socks?” Till asked, tilting her head.

“They’re like gloves that you wear on your feet,” he explained.

“We know what socks are – what we’re asking is why you were shopping for them at night,” Ezi giggled.

“Well, clothing for Earth’nay is somewhat of a specialist commodity here, so I wanted to make sure that I could get things like clothes and shoes for when mine wear out.”

“I expected as much,” Mima said, producing a little plastic container. She handed it to Steven, who examined it suspiciously.

“What’s this?” he wondered, cracking the lid open. A familiar scent wafted out, and inside, he saw a handful of snack bars. They were the same kind that Mima had taught him to make during the flock’s evening at his house, but they had been decorated with little Mandarin characters.

“We made you something to eat!” Mima replied with a delighted flicker of green. “You seemed to enjoy my snack bars, so we decided to bake you some more.”

“We could have just gotten you something from the vending machines, but she insisted,” Ezi chuckled.

“These are Chinese characters,” he mused, lifting one of the bars from the box to examine it more closely. It looked as though it had been drawn on with some kind of icing.

“We didn’t know what any of them meant, but we remembered the shapes,” Tilli explained.

“Thanks, guys,” he said as he glanced up at the flock. Mima seemed especially pleased with his reaction, all aflutter with green hues. “That’s actually really thoughtful,” he added, taking a bite.

“Well, you have been helping us out a lot,” Mima explained. “We should do more to show our appreciation. Even Paza appreciates it, don’t you?” she added as she reached over to prompt her flockmate with a nudge.

“Uh, yes,” Paza replied as she glanced up from her work. “You’ve been very helpful in securing resources and improving efficiency so far.”

“High praise, coming from you,” Steven replied.

“We’ll go out shopping at lunch,” Ipal said, sidling up to his left.

“And we were wondering if we could come over to your place after work and watch more of that show?” Ezi added as she appeared to his right. “With your permission, of course.”

“Sure,” he replied. “And, good job involving me in the process this time.”

“Damn it,” Ezi grumbled, squinting at her display with a flash of red.

“What’s wrong?” Steven asked, leaning over to peer at her monitor.

“Technical issues,” she groaned, flopping back in her seat. “Paza is busy – you want to come take a look?”

“Sure,” he replied, sliding off his chair and walking over to join her. She was short enough while sitting that he could lean over her easily, her head scarcely reaching his chest, resting his hands on the desk to either side of hers. “What’s the issue, exactly?”

“I’m having trouble accessing the new messaging system,” she explained, turning her head to peer up at him just as Mima had while they were cooking together. “Boy, you really are tall, aren’t you?”

“I’m not tall – you’re just short,” he muttered as he reached out to manipulate the floating controls. “Ah, these are Valbaran key layouts,” he sighed. “Show me what’s wrong.”

“First, you have to stoop to my level,” she replied as she hopped off her seat and dragged it out of his way. He pulled his own chair over to her desk, slouching a little to see her low display. “Scoot over a little so I can do the typing,” she trilled, sliding between him and the desk before he could protest. He lifted his arms out of her way, not sure where to put them, the little alien backing up into his lap. She draped her long tail over his thigh, those tight bike shorts practically creaking as she leaned forward a little, her butt hovering a scant inch away from him.

Ipal gave her a red flush but seemed unwilling to intervene in her scheme, Ezi wiggling a little as she began to type.

“What exactly is the issue?” Steven asked, trying not to admire the way that the thick base of her tail transitioned into the indent of her spine before vanishing beneath her colorful tunic.

“See, I can’t find my messages,” she explained as she navigated the system. “They used to be here, but now, I can’t search for flags.”

“That’s because we moved over to a new system that I set up,” he replied. “I’m pretty sure this was explained to you already.”

“Well, I don’t usually handle messages myself,” she explained. She stood up straighter, turning her head to glance up at him, batting her violet eyes as a ripple of rose-pink feathers tickled his nose. “Perhaps you forgot to tell me?”

“I don’t think I’m that forgetful,” he grumbled.

“You can teach me,” she continued, Steven suddenly all too aware of the way that the smooth underside of her tail was slithering against his leg. “I’m a fast learner.”

Hesitantly, he leaned a little closer to reach for the holographic keyboard, Ezi ensuring that she was firmly in his way. She didn’t move with him, instead letting her back press up against his broad chest, her shoulders scarcely half the width of his. He had no choice but to let another flutter of feathers stroke his cheeks, the fine vanes as soft as silk. There was a pleasant scent about them that made him suspect they’d been perfumed. This close, he could see that they were densely layered, different colors hidden behind one another in stacks.

“You take the pointer, and I’ll take the keyboard,” she purred. “We work well together, don’t you think?”

Her seduction had the subtlety of a brick to the face, but he would be lying if having her tight little frame practically bent over the desk wasn’t doing things to him.

“Sorry, want me to bring it closer?” she chimed as she reached beneath the hologram. She drew it up and towards her, pressing nearer to him in the process, resting her free hand on his thigh like it was the armrest of a chair.

“I can see it just fine,” he muttered. “Here you go – your messages are here. See this extremely obvious group of subfolders?”

“Very efficient,” she marveled, making him lurch as she moved in his lap. “You’re so clever, Steven. No wonder Paza is so impressed with you.”

“Was that all you needed help with?”

She waved her hand through the holographic display, prompting it to fizzle out and disappear, then turned to face him. She had to crane her neck to look him in the eyes, her snout barely reaching his chin.

“I thought we could talk about our shopping trip – if you’re not too busy,” she replied. She hopped up onto the desk effortlessly, letting her legs hang over its edge, her long tail trailing across its surface. Leaning back a little, she reached for the hem of her tunic, lifting it every so slightly to expose a tantalizing sliver of her scaly midriff. He was somewhat surprised to see that she had a navel. “Do you think this is my color? What kind of suit do you imagine me wearing?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, trying not to look too flustered.

“Some styles are loose, like this,” she said as she held out the fabric for him. “Then, there are the ones that the flock in resource allocation wear. They’re a little more form-fitting.” She reached behind her tunic, pulling it tight enough that it revealed the hourglass outline of her figure, Steven fighting to keep his gaze off the subtle mounds of her chest. “Personally, I like something tight and prim. The formal look is sexy.”

“Ezi, don’t you have work that you should be doing?” Paza chided from an adjacent desk.

“This is work,” she protested. “How we present ourselves before the Earth’nay clients will color their first impressions of us. We have to look our best, and Steven knows what Earth’nay like.” She turned her eyes to him again, her headdress framing her smirking face in pink. “So, Steven. What do Earth’nay like?”

“I don’t think he’ll know until he sees you wearing it,” Mima said, leaning her head in her hand as she observed the interaction from her desk nearby.

“Let’s stop bothering Steven and let him do his work,” Ipal finally said, giving her flockmate another pulse of disapproving red.

“Am I bothering you, Steven?” Ezi asked as she batted her eyes at him. “Part of your job as our clerk is making sure all of our needs are met, right?”

“I don’t think Yemi would be very happy with us if he found out that we were wasting time socializing,” Steven replied. He stood up, reaching out to grip Ezi under her arms and lifting her light frame off the desk. He deposited her on the floor beside his seat, her plumage awash with flustered pinks and yellows, those violet eyes gazing up at him.

“Well, when can we socialize?” she asked with a pout.

“On break, and after work,” he replied.

“Promise?” she asked with another flutter of pink.

“Cross my heart.”

Seeming satisfied that she had gained some ground, she waited for him to move his chair back to his desk, then sat down smugly. Every now and then, she’d shoot him a look across the cubicle as she twirled one of her head-sheaths idly, clearly anticipating their lunch break now that he’d all but given her permission to flirt.

Steven loosened his collar, trying to focus on his task while Ezi gave him bedroom eyes through the floating displays. Teaching the flock boundaries wasn’t only going to be difficult for them, but for him, too. He wasn’t exactly accustomed to fighting off such aggressive advances, and every male instinct in his hormone-addled body was screaming at him to give them exactly what they wanted – and as much of it as they could handle. If he did that, he’d only be reinforcing their behavior, though. That wouldn’t be good for Yemi or for the workplace in general.

Playing hard to get was going to take some practice.

The flock hopped down the steps of the train station, Steven following behind, making his way down the precarious stairs. They were in another part of the city, bright sunlight bleaching the surrounding buildings, their pale bone colors shining even through his sunglasses.

“We haven’t been shopping for new clothes in ages!” Ezi trilled as she bobbed along the sidewalk happily.

“Because we didn’t need any,” Ipal replied. “We don’t have to preen and wax our scales like boys.”

“Some pride in your appearance can go a long way,” Mima added as she walked beside Steven. “Look at our favorite clerk here. Even when we take him out, he’s still dressed in formal clothes, and he always takes the time to look prim and proper for us. It’s a quality that I appreciate.”

He found himself sandwiched in the center of their little group, almost as though they were patrolling to protect him from any prospective females that might come snooping, the specter of Qimi’s flock still looming over them.

“You’re only saying that because keeping your feathers clean takes us half an hour every evening,” Tilli giggled.

“It’s a team effort,” Mima replied.

They made a beeline for one of the buildings, stepping through the street-facing doors. The Valbarans never seemed to want to travel very far on foot, and the shopping districts were always very close to the rail lines. Unlike the grocery store filled with aisles of vending machines, this was far more familiar, resembling a department store. It was filled with aisles of clothing hanging on racks, larger-than-life holographic portrayals of Valbarans hovering above them, modeling the outfits as they turned on the spot and changed poses.

Steven wandered into the store, his head on a swivel. There were casual outfits, business clothes, and even swimsuits of the kind he had seen the women wearing on the boat tour. He peered up at one of them, the hologram doing a remarkable job of making the fabric appear wet and reflective.

“Want us to get one of those instead?” Ipal chuckled as she passed by him, leaving him standing there blushing.

They found their way to the business section, the five flockmates fanning out and starting to rummage through the options. One notable difference was that the racks were motorized, responding to hand gestures from the women, cycling along their rails to display new outfits. Steven was tall enough to see over them, watching a few other flocks peruse the stock. After a lot of rapid discussion in their native tongue, they decided on a few selections, bobbing their way over to the back of the store with bundles of fabric in their arms.

The flock arrived at a row of booths that seemed too large to be changing rooms, but Steven soon realized that they were sized for the whole group rather than individuals.

“Males wait outside,” Ipal explained with a smile, the five women closing the sliding door on him.

“I came sixty light-years, and I’m still waiting around while women try on clothes,” he muttered to himself as he stowed his hands in his pockets.

A couple of minutes later, Ezi reemerged, sliding the door shut behind her again to prevent him from getting a peek inside.

“What do you think?” she asked, raising her arms and turning on the spot. “Do you like it?”

Gone was the colorful tunic and the tight shorts, replaced with a formal vest of the kind that he’d seen the more senior employees of the office wearing. It had more muted colors, favoring shades of gray, the way that it fastened at her midriff with a silver clasp pulling it tight around her waist. Instead of the shorts, she wore a skirt that stopped just shy of her knees, helping to further accentuate her lithe figure.

“Well?” she continued, turning and cocking her hips as she peered over her shoulder. There was a slot for her tail to poke through, the waistband passing above it. “Earth’nay women wear skirts, right? Isn’t this the fashion where you come from? I could have it tailored to make it a little more snug around my waist...”

“It looks ... really good,” he muttered, not sure what else to say.

“It’s a tad restrictive,” she added, doing a little wiggle on the spot.

“What’s with the muted colors?” he asked.

“They’re supposed to signify a lack of emotion,” she explained, reaching down to adjust the skirt – it was riding up her scaly thighs. “It says I’m all business. So, do you like it?”

“Are you asking if I like it or if I think it’ll wow the clients?” Steven asked.

She responded with a feathery shrug and a coy smile.

“I think it’s a good option,” he said.

“We still have more to show you,” she replied, hopping back over to the changing room and sliding inside. Steven heard a chorus of Valbaran chattering for a moment before the door slid shut. A few seconds later, Mima emerged.

“This is more of a masculine style,” she explained, stopping to pose for him. “We imagined that the Earth’nay might appreciate that.”