"...when we get to your place will you tickle me all over?"

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Green Sun
Chapter 8
Red Tape, Green Blanket

by Donna Lamb

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Rodney Clarence slapped the Heavenly Requisitions desk. It made a sound like a gunshot, "I need more than an extra dead body, a burned-up aeroplane and some fancy luggage for my client! I need her changed back or at least her memory restored, her body turned into something more like a real person and identity papers for her! This is just unacceptable, sarge."

The young woman behind the desk jerked, startled by the noise. Dressed, as she had been in life, in the simple white shift of a temple attendant from 43rd century B.P. Egypt, she didn't look much like a sergeant and she confirmed that, verbally. "I am not called 'sarge', my name is Thema! And I've told you, you can only request material objects for your client here, not changes in living beings or history. For that you need to go to the Editation and Rewrite desk or to Documentation for earthly papers."

"But they won't do anything either! They say I have to have an orange seal from a Principality or higher, or two green seals from different Authorities!" Rodney protested. He took off his flat-crowned campaign hat and ran his hand through his close-cropped brown curls in frustration.

"Well, then, I guess that's what you need, those seals! You have to go through channels, even in Heaven. And you're just a Probationary Guardian Angel, Third. I'm only a Ministering Angel, Second, myself!" She shut the window panel abruptly, narrowly missing Rodney's fingers.

"But where do I find one of these Princes with an orange seal?" Rodney asked the closed panel.

"I'm on break!" came the reply. "See your own supervisor! He's probably an Archangel or an Authority himself."

Rodney frowned. "But I can't find him either, Heaven's a big place." No one answered.

Rodney turned away. It bothered him in many ways that Hobie Martin, his new assignment, had been transformed into...well, he couldn't think of a nice way to put it. If he didn't do something about that soon, Hobie and Bruce would probably be getting into even more trouble; he'd seen the look in the big man's eye. Poor Bruce had no way of knowing that Hobie used to be a guy. "And the way she looks now, it might not make any difference. I think those two toadeaters even did something to how she smells!" he muttered.

At least Ted o'Mersey had briefed Rodney on the Devil in Drag's shenanigans before sending him out on his first assignment. "She's a bad'un," Ted had said. "You may have to be creative about how you solve the problems she causes." But now he couldn't find Ted in Heaven's wide avenues and teeming multitudes. And he hadn't been able to find Bruce's Guardian Angel either, not in Heaven or on Earth.

He sighed. He'd have to do something. He'd sometimes got in trouble in life for going off on his own initiative, "being creative" in the military wasn't always a good idea, but he didn't see any other way to do it. Using his new angelic powers, he transported himself from the warehouse district of Heaven's Lowest East Circle directly to his client's vicinity in the Arizona desert, taking along the one item he'd requisitioned for himself.

"You can't even sit up?" Bruce asked. He'd tried to give her a sip from his water bottle but she'd been unable to lift herself up into position. Her effort had been something to see, though.

The girl under the blanket shook her head. "My boobies are too heavy; when I try to sit up, it hurts my back. Pretty silly, huh?" she said in her little girl voice. "I bet this must be your dream 'cause it's just too silly for one of mine." She giggled.

That actually offered a solution Bruce hadn't thought of before. A girl with breasts almost as big as soccer balls did seem like the stuff of dreams. He tried to will himself awake; that always worked in dreams once he realized he was dreaming. Not this time, though. He looked around and admitted to himself that he had never had a dream with such detail. Desert floor with heat waves shimmering. Burning airplane in a cactus patch with a towering smoke cloud. Blonde girl with dark eyelashes and a Barbie doll smile under a military surplus blanket. "I'm not dreaming," he said aloud.

The girl sighed."Then it must be me. Maybe it's like when I thought I was a boy and I only think I've got huge boobies. Huh?"

Bruce had to grin. She looked so cute trying to be thoughtful and serious.

Then she looked past him. "Who's that in your truck?" she asked.

Bruce turned quickly but he didn't see anyone. He got up and went to the truck to check then hurried back, scooped the girl crippled by her enormous breasts off the sand, and placed her in the back of the truck on top of a layer of blankets, surrounded by a cloud of her own fragrant blonde hair. He kept a lookout all the while, expecting something to happen but had a moment to marvel at how tiny she seemed, huge boobies and all. She couldn't weigh more than a hundred pounds.

"Are we going somewhere?" she asked. She looked so trusting--but his flesh felt warm and sticky where he had held her against him--he didn't trust himself.

"My place for now," he told her. Right, I should take her to a hospital or the police or the Border Patrol...no, I'm taking her home. Or to my motel at least. He groaned.

"Are you okay?" she asked. "You look all hot and bothered."

He squeezed his eyes shut tight and blinked a few times causing her to giggle. "I'm fine," he said. "Are you okay? You need anything?"

"Um, nothing right now but when we get to your place will you tickle me all over? I like to giggle."

Help me, Bruce thought. He stopped with the door to the back of the SUV half-closed, a ticklish image stuck in his mind. She giggled again and he came back to the moment, remembered the luggage he'd found and loaded that too. He closed the door, rushed around the truck and climbed inside.

"Are we in a hurry?" the girl asked.

"Yes," he said. He started the truck up and pulled away from the burning plane, still trying to look in too many directions at once. He didn't want to tell her that the rifle he'd left in the truck had disappeared. But whoever took it could have shot me in the back before I knew he was there...so we're probably safe. Probably.

continued...