(I'm no good at Gimp or Photoshop, you'll just have to imagine that Iris has thistle-colored eyes. Though I do now have an anime-ish avatar depicting Iris.)

"In Tandem Orbit, Chapter 2"
By = Sure-as-elle

Author's note about the last chapter: There was some confusion from at least one reader about a sentence in the first chapter, where it has the sentence "the two sub-species were also gengineered to take 10 Terran years to age from Terran age 8 to Terran age 18, and thus we have much longer childhoods than the original Terran sub-species." What I meant to say is "the two sub-species were also genetically engineered to age half as fast as Terrans once they reach age 8, for a period of 20 years, and thus do not reach physical adulthood until age 30."

Also, any grammar/spelling errors in dialogue are most likely done on purpose, especially in Iris's dialogue.

~ ~ ~

Chapter Two: First Date

Saturday

That morning, I was dreaming about Iris; we were just holding hands and talking in the dream. I don't know how long the dream actually was, but it felt like an hour. And then the dream Iris started to glow brighter and brighter and became an angel. I was in awe, and would have stared for a long time, but she got so bright I couldn't look at her anymore. The light got so bright that I woke up and realized that the sun was shining right in my eyes. Birds were chirping, and it was all like something out of a daydream, and I turned over in bed and burrowed under the blankets to keep out the sun. I wanted to sleep, and dream of Iris more, but after what felt like 15 minutes, I knew it was no good, so reluctantly I got up and began my day.

Unlike the day before, I was calm. I guess it was because I knew Iris, and however well or badly the date went, it was probably unlikely to end in anything worse than just being friends and no more. Sure, I probably could have corrected myself with all the many horrible ways things could go wrong, including horrible accidents where we both tragically lose our lives, or I heroically sacrifice my own to save Iris's (which I would totally do for any child, even one I didn't know, but for kids I didn't know, I would probably at least hesitate a second or two first), but, well, I try not to think that way. I don't always succeed, but if I catch myself starting to go down roads like that, I can usually redirect my own thoughts. Didn't need to it that morning, though.

I sat down with a bowl of cereal to watch some three-vee cartoons as though I were Iris's age instead of 30 (hey, give me a break, I'm only 10 years out of my adolescence, and I have about 140 years of life left to live!). I hadn't dressed yet, so I was still in panties and an over-sized t-shirt that served as a night shirt. As I ate, a part of my mind looked forward to the day when Iris and I could do a morning routine like this together. This made me lose track of the show's plot as I daydreamed about the ways that could happen. I was unsurprised to find that it didn't matter how it happened; even just having her kip in the spare bedroom, everything totally platonic – just two friends having a sleepover, was enough for me. Maybe it was too soon to know, but nonetheless I knew she was my soul-mate, whether the relationship would ever be ever sexual or not.

After breakfast I showered, shaving my legs as I did. Then I lounged around the house nude and sat on the couch, the three-vee off, reading a biography of Barack Obama, a man who had once been the President of a country called the United States of America. As I read it, some of the events I read about seemed so outlandish – mostly the work of the Republicans – that I wondered how badly the histories had been warped over the centuries. Surely nobody sane enough to be elected to public office would threaten to default on their country's loans and threaten economic collapse and possibly government downfall just to try to ruin a leader they didn't like? And surely no more than a couple people like that could ever exist at a time! This was starting to sound like a book about conspiracy theories, but less amusing. I put down the book with a snort of disbelieving disgust and picked up a novel instead. It was about creatures from outside of our reality trying to destroy us all, and sounded far more plausible to me.

Later, deciding what to wear was a lot easier than the day before. I didn't have to impress anyone I didn't know, so I just wore something comfortable but nice enough to get away with wearing at most church services. It was a purple dress with a black short-sleeved sweater, as it wasn't terribly hot outside, and we'd be mostly indoors anyway. All in all, it took me maybe half an hour to get ready and go out to the car, and I wasn't even trying to be fast.

Yes, I had walked to her house the day before, but this time we would be going downtown, so it made no sense to walk all the way there when I was just going to have to have the car pick us up anyway. Speaking of which, the silly car sounded almost annoyed as I turned it on and set the location, almost as though it was annoyed it was being woken up for such a short trip. This wasn't the first time I'd wondered just how smart the AI in my car really was, if maybe the rise of the machines was indeed almost upon us.

"Your journey is less than 10 blocks, Rianna," it said churlishly, "are you sure you wouldn't rather walk?"

"Don't be rude, Jeeves, you tangled neural net; I'm picking up a date and then we're going downtown. If I want advice, I'll ask."

"Yes, Rianna," it replied, chastised but still petulant. I put the seat back a little and placed my hands behind my head, relaxing as Jeeves – the car's AI – carefully backed up and drove exactly the speed limit the short distance to Iris's house. As we pulled up, Jeeves sent a message to the house's AI, but it was unnecessary, because Iris threw the door open hard enough to where, even from this distance, I could hear the house's AI chastising her, and ran out to the car. Out of courtesy, I got out and met her partway. Matria walked calmly up toward us as I met Iris. I looked her over, and was impressed by her pale pink dress and white leather sandals. As I reached her, I got down on one knee before my little darling, her face flashing with startled bewilderment until I took her hand in mine and kissed it gently.

"My princess," I addressed her. "Your coach awaits."

She blinked at me a moment, then sighed with visible relief and amusement. I raised a single eyebrow questioningly.

"Wow, for a moment there I thought you were gonna propose marriage, and I was gonna say you're getting ahead of yourself!"

I laughed at this and hugged her. "Also," she told me seriously, "I prefer to be addressed as 'My Queen' or 'My Royal Highness.'"

"Of course, my Queen," I answered, kissing her on the forehead. I looked up at Matria, who had reached us. "So, ground rules?"

"Yes. I want her back by eleven. And I want her back safe and happy. I'll understand if she's unhappy for something that wasn't your fault, but if it was your fault, well... my response depends on what's happened."

"I'll guard her with my life, and get her home safely or die trying."

She chuckled. "Okay, I think that's a little excessive given the circumstances, but I'll take it."

"Wait, eleven? That late?"

"Well, the show ends at 10, so I'm taking into account driving time and, er..." she leaned forward and said quietly in my ear, "an after-show treat, if you feel inclined to offer it."

"Gotcha."

Iris frowned up at her mother. "Whatcha talkin bout that's so secret?"

"Nothing huge," Matria said, "I just didn't want to give you any ideas that she might not want to be pressured into."

Iris's frown turned into a very serious and yet hilarious attempt at side-eye, and we both chuckled at her expression. She just shook her head at rolled her eyes at the both of us.

"Any other ground rules?"

"Hmm... I think that about covers it. Oh, one more: have fun, you two."

"We will, mama," Iris ran up to peck Matria on the cheek as I opened the door, then literally hopped in like a little bunny. I made sure her fingers and dress were clear before I closed the door and went around to the "driver's" side myself.

Once we got in, I told Jeeves we were headed to whichever Taco Tavio's was closest to the Metropolitan Centre. I put up my seat most of the way so I could see where we were, and to talk with Iris as the car drove us there. As it pulled away, Iris excitedly waved farewell to her mother.

"Lavernia Metropolitan Centre For the Fine and Performing Arts," Jeeves commented. "There is a showing of-"

"Yes, Jeeves, we know. No need for commentary. We have tickets. Just shut up and drive."

"Yes, Rianna," he said. I could practically hear him roll his eyes at me; or he would, if he had eyes rather than cameras. We ignored him and talked while he drove.

If you're unfamiliar with Paxum's traffic control system, it's simple. The cars are AIs, which can mimic human behavior and might possibly be alive, but there's been no proof yet. Anyway, they're connected to a traffic-only Mesh (as opposed to the primary Mesh we use for almost everything else, which back in the 21st century would have been called the Internet). The local Traffic Mesh, or Traffic Grid as some people call it, was comprised of every single car in the region, cameras that watched traffic flow and looked out for pedestrians and other hazards, the solar roadways that lit up wherever they sensed something potentially dangerous or in danger on them, and Processing Nodes, which are basically Mesh servers that keep track of it all and make corrections wherever needed. Thus car accidents are extremely rare on Paxum. Probably Lucem, too, but I don't know a lot about that planet. (Those solar roadways, by the way, supply the planet with 90% of its power, wind and water power getting the other 10%. Some places have fusion generators, too, but those are places that need a lot more power to do science experiments, unusually high-energy industrial stuff, and the like.)

After maybe 40 minutes of talking while Jeeves took us sedately to the taco place, which seemed like a lot less because of our conversation, he neatly pulled up to the door and informed us we were there. Excitedly, Iris flung her door open and slammed it closed, while I got out more gently so as not to irritate Jeeves too much. Once we were safely to the door and out of his way, Jeeves drove off to find a place to park himself.

"Iris honey," I said gently and quietly as we walked in, "from now on do you think you could open and close the doors of the car more gently? Jeeves gets irritated when people manhandle his doors."

"Oh okay, sorry bout that. I just was really excited. I'll try to remember that."

We sat down across from each other in a couple of booths, and picked up the e-scrip menu to study it. They apparently had sensors in them that read the sizes of our hands, or were connected via Mesh or private Intramesh to the restaurant's cameras, because Iris's menu tried to suggest the Kid's Menu to her, but mine did not do the same thing. She ignored its advice and insisted on seeing the normal menu. It complied without any fuss, as it wasn't complex enough to have a personality like Jeeves did. It was just a regular computer. Hundreds of times faster than anything the 21st century ever had, but still just a computer, not an AI.

Aside from giggling a little at "fish tacos," which I admit I did too, Iris was very serious while contemplating her choices. Finally, though, she chose a five-taco meal and a small drink.

"You gonna eat all that?" I asked in astonishment.

"Yup."

"You gonna be able to walk to the Centre without bursting or puking?"

She gave me a very pointed yet slightly amused look and said, "Yes, I'll be fine."

"If you insist," I said, the corners of my mouth twitching. I looked at her order again, noticing this time that she'd ordered the tacos with 5-alarm sauce on them. I opened my mouth to say something, but knowing Iris's intelligence as I did, I quickly shut it again. Either she knew what she was doing or she'd soon learn a very powerful lesson. As tempted as I was to say something, I figured it was more likely she knew what she was doing. Though that didn't stop me worrying enough to have a hard time concentrating on what I wanted to order.

Iris's menu must have assumed we were ordering together, because her order blinked "pending" while I continued to struggle. Finally, I decided to get what she was having, but with sour cream and shredded spinach on mine. Also I opted for 3-alarm sauce, not being brave enough for 5-alarm. I ordered, we submitted our orders, and while we waited for our food we went back to our discussion of Dargon's history book, which she had finished a couple nights ago, though she hadn't had a chance to get the next volume yet.

I was just beginning to add in comments about what I'd read in the Barack Obama biography I'd read that morning, when a woman in uniform brought our meals over to us. We thanked her and soon, we had our mouths too full of spicy tacos to do any talking. I almost choked on my food when Iris took a third bite of one taco with no sign so far that the taco was at all spicy, whereas I was already taking a drink to recover from my first bite, and mine was two alarms less spicy than hers. She noticed, and gave me a look that plainly said 'ha, told you so!' without words.

"I guess that'll teach me not to make any assumptions about you, Iris."

"Darn right," she said with a smirk before taking her first bite of a second taco.

For the most part, we quietly ate our tacos. I supposed Iris's reason was the same as mine: the food was just so good that, despite the heat of it, I wanted to savor the flavor, and whenever I swallowed, my mouth began to crave more. So there wasn't really time to talk while we were busy granting the wishes of our mouths.

Halfway through her third taco, Iris slopped some down the front of her dress. I started to go into panic mode, wondering if I was going to have to run to a clothing kiosk for a replacement, but she just wiped it off with a napkin, leaving no stain or even a wet spot behind. I was confused, and Iris noticed this. "Oh," she explained, "it's a meta-material fabric. Looks and even kinda feels like cotton, but it's designed so stuff just comes right off. Makes cleaning up after four kids a lot easier, according to Mama."

"Oh. Wow. I'll have to remember to get the template for that, it sounds dead useful. Do they still have to be laundered?"

She shrugged. "Not much. Mama just dunks em in plain water for a minute or two and then hangs them up. They dry in a couple minutes, since they don't retain water or much of anything else. They do it by wicking moisture away. Amazing to wear in the summertime, even more comfy than runnin around nudie." She winked at me with a grin as she took another bite of taco, and I blushed as I imagined her running around the house or even the yard nude. Of course, I knew she could; our culture not being into body shame or sex shame, anyone could go almost anywhere nude at pretty much any time. Exceptions were made for safety, of course, but otherwise nobody gave a shit one way or the other what, if anything, anyone wore. Well, most people anyway.

I chuckled inwardly as I ate some more of my taco. Iris was turning out to be a little flirt. She made it clear last night that she wasn't ready for any "kissy or sexy stuff" yet, but that didn't mean she couldn't flirt and tease. It wasn't encouraged behavior, but neither was it discouraged. The way our culture worked, you had a greater chance of being killed by a shark while being nowhere near water than you did of being sexually assaulted; most people on Paxum, if they got too "excited," would just run to a nearby restroom to rub one out, try to kill their own mood by thinking of something gross or boring, or else just stew in their own juices. Some people even got excited by that last one. As for me, her wink merely made me a little more flustered than I'd been before.

After she finished her tacos and her drink, Iris asked if I wanted my last taco. I refrained from making a comment about getting her hollow legs ahead of schedule, and simply shook my head. I was still hungry for it. She shrugged and looked back at the menu, though by her expression I think she wasn't really hungry enough to order anything else. Probably just her mouth still craving more taco.

Putting the menu down, she began to talk at me, apparently not expecting a response. "I could eat here every day, for every meal, if Mama let me. But she says tacos are a sometimes food, since I eat so many at a time. I try to come here at least once a week, though. Maybe you can come with me when I do. I can work round your work schedule." I half-grinned at her pronouncing the word like "shed-jull" but had my mouth full of the last bit of taco, so I couldn't respond.

Iris rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Oh wait, you have a lunch break I guess. So we could go on your lunch break, if you wanted to. Or I could bring you some to the library. Or, well... no, on second thought I guess grease and librarians don't mix, at least not days they're working. Though I suppose you'd have to wash your hands anyway."

I chewed and swallowed, smiling at her prattle. I didn't mind that it wasn't her usual astute conversation, that it was more like the kind of prattle one would normally expect from an eight year old. I just liked hearing her speak, in that moment. Hearing that one-sided, half-to-herself babbling was like soothing music to me. It hadn't really dawned on me until that moment just how much I liked hearing her voice. There was something about its pitch and timbre that was almost hypnotic, but without dulling the mind.

She didn't seem to be aware that she was babbling as she started wondering aloud if the library's paper books were made of some kind of meta-material paper, since she couldn't remember ever accidentally marking on a book. I was done with my food and drink, and had been about to snap her out of her monologue when she'd said that, and it made me pause another minute while I thought about it.

"Well," I interrupted, "that's an excellent question. I don't know the answer to that."

Iris blinked at me in bewilderment. "What's a good question?" Apparently, she had moved on in the minute I'd been thinking.

" 'Are the library books made of a meta-material?'" I answered.

"Oh. Oh yeah, that. Was I babbling?" I just grinned at her.

*

We were having a proper conversation now, as we walked toward the Metropolitan Centre. It wasn't until we reached the doors and noticed the sign for the concert that we paused.

"Damn, we're twenty minutes early," I groused, looking around. "But no matter, there's a place right over there to walk under some trees. Interested?"

Iris gave a little, slightly mocking curtsy and a grin, held her arm out, and said, "Why yes, milady, that would be lovely."

Rolling my eyes and smiling, I took her arm and we walked along the path through some trees, but it was slightly awkward with our height difference, so we changed to holding hands instead. The trees turned out to be some sort of flowering tree, and were in full bloom. One of the blossoms drifted lazily through the air and landed on Iris's shoulder. I carefully picked it up and placed it in her hair by her left ear, which was closest to me. When we approached the reflective surface of a window, Iris looked at herself in it, but was disappointed by the lack of proper colors. I held up my Omnus wrist computer and snapped some pictures of her and her new pretty flower.

"A pretty flower for an even prettier flower," I commented, and she blushed.

"How pretty am I?"

"In every way. Appearance, scent," I sniffed her hair, and she giggled, "texture," I stroked her cheek lightly with the back of my fingers, "but most importantly intelligence, spirit, and heart. I'd say taste, too, but I'd have to lick you, and I didn't want to startle, upset, or creep you out."

"Oh, go ahead," she said demurely, holding out her left hand.

"By your leave," I said, taking her hand in mine, and lightly licking the palm of her hand. "Hmm," I said thoughtfully, "salty. And--" I began to cough and flail a bit, trying to wipe off my tongue with my hands and making Iris's face look panicked, but it was over quickly.

"What? What happened?" she pleaded.

"Some of your five-alarm taco sauce," I said, my eyes watering. "You didn't wash your hands after eating, naughty girl. I hope you didn't use the restroom after eating."

She rushed to assure me she hadn't, and I rushed to calm her down and let her know I was fine and already ready to laugh at the situation. This got her to grin sheepishly at me. "Come to think of it," she said, suddenly looking pensive, "I should probably go to the restroom before the concert."

I looked at the Omnus on my wrist. "Yeah, let's both do that. There's about 10 minutes left before they start seating people."

It was a close call, but we went to the restroom and back to the line just in time for them to start seating people. As Iris wiped her still-damp hands covertly on her dress, which wasn't very effective, I got the tickets out and handed them to the attendant. Xe scanned our tickets, looked at the result on xyr screen, and stamped our hands with temporary nano-LED tattoos in the shape of the CL heart-within-a-heart symbol. I knew from previous experience that it would fall out overnight, and if not, it could be washed out in the shower. After a second attendant seated us and left a pair of e-scrip pages with us, and Iris looked questioningly at the temporary tat, I explained that to her.

Satisfied, Iris looked at the e-scrip page in her hand, and I followed suit. It had two buttons displayed on it, one for the show's program, and another for the menu. I pressed the button for the menu, and it expanded into the menu, the other button hiding, smaller, in the upper left corner. Iris copied me, and after a minute or two, we had ordered two drinks and some popped amaranth, which is like popcorn but healthier. A few minutes later, a robotic attendant came around with a cart, doling out drinks and amaranth from it. We got our order and it continued on its way. It made sense for a robot to be doing this job, as there were hundreds of people in the theater, and it would have been a difficult, demanding, and stressful task for a human.

I took a small bit of amaranth, since the show hadn't even begun to begin yet, and poked the button for the program. Along with a list of the songs of each dance, the names of the dancers, and the people playing the music or conducting it, the program also had lots of extras, like interviews with the dancers, behind-the-scenes stuff, a 2-hour long documentary about the troupe, clips of previous performances, short bios of the dancers, and several scores of still shots. The program was also linked to the three-vee cameras pointed at the stage, to give people better views through close-ups and to save a copy of the official recording of the show for later viewing pleasure. Of course, there were other uses for the material in the program, which we could take home, but nothing wrong with a little harmless fantasy. (The menu part of the program would doubtless go inert once the performance was over.)

Putting the programs lengthwise into handy program holders attached to the seats in front of us, we no longer had to hold the e-scrip programs to watch close-ups. Iris was having fun cycling through different cameras to watch the band setting up, and the stage hands finish up their work on the stage.

Before long, they finished setting up, and the lights turned off. The chatter of the crowd died out, the stage lights turned on, and the show began.

I could try to explain the whole experience, but you really have to see it for yourself. I will restrict myself to the highlights, instead of boring you with a crappy retelling of the whole thing. The performance was a relatively modern take on Swan Lake I think, as someone had interpreted (how liberally I don't know) for pole dancing. I have to say, it was a good interpretation. It had all the elegance of the original ballet version of Swan Lake, with an added dimension as the dancers, as modestly clothed as the necessities of gripping a pole with body parts like thighs permitted, did all sorts of acrobatics on poles both vertically and horizontally aligned. They swung around poles by their arms, climbed up poles backwards and forwards, suspended their bodies over the stage holding onto the pole with nothing but their thighs, spun around in that same suspended state, jumped down from one pole to another to be caught by the hands of another dancer also on a pole (both vertical and horizontal poles), slid down some poles and spun straight outward by their hands on others, and did somersaults on the horizontal poles. They also did something similar to somersaults on the vertical poles, using their calves and forearms instead of hands and feet to grip the pole. Their feats of strength and skill and daring got oohs, ahhs, gasps, applause, shrieks, and even screams from the audience, for everyone watching could see this troupe – mostly children with a few adults mixed in – were risking life and limb for their entertainment. (Well, there were cushions on the stage for safety, but there was still risk involved.)

I think the best part of the show was the intricate human diamond shape toward the end, where all the dancers in the troupe were hanging from different poles in different precarious positions, hands grabbing other hands or sometimes feet, the right and left points of the diamond made of two adult dancers holding their entire body weight, straight outward, in their two hands without any help. That had to hurt! Even more impressive than that, they held the diamond shape for several minutes (no idea how many) while the smallest member of the troupe, an 8 or 9 year old girl, took up a position in the middle and did a solo dance up in the air that ended with her bending in half while facing the audience suspended between two vertically-alligned bars, her legs bending over her shoulders. She held it for maybe 30 seconds, then moved her legs, straight, to either side and held that pose for another 30 seconds, before starting up a series of spins, in-air twirls, and daring leaps, before landing on the floor and doing a split, and bowing as she did. And then everyone went into one awesome final number that I won't even attempt to describe, as there was too much going on at once to relay, even if I could remember it all.

When it was over, there was the briefest moment of utter silence before the theater exploded with noise as everyone stood up, jumped up and down, screamed themselves hoarse, whistled, howled, stamped their feet, and clapped their hands raw to let them know how awesome they were. I couldn't even see the stage for all the exultant audience members, but watching the recording later, they had all bowed multiple times, tried to leave a few times only to come back out for more bowing while flower leis, feather boas, and even the odd panty or two were all tossed on-stage in celebration. Despite the noise, Iris managed to convey to me instructions to lift her up over the crowd, which I did; she immediately began to scream and pump her fists and hoot her appreciation along with everyone else.

As soon as we managed to extricate ourselves from the mass of people flowing out the exits of the building, we walked to a public park a few blocks away to get away from the noise. My ears were ringing for a few minutes in the blessed silence, and though it was late, we took the time to just walk hand in hand quietly through the park, the solar-panel sidewalks lighting the path for us. We didn't speak. I don't think either of us could, after all the screaming and cheering earlier, and we were both enjoying the silence.

After maybe 15 or 20 minutes, we came across a mandolin player playing under a streetlight. The man, whose skin was lighter than mine but still the brown of African ancestry, made a movement like he was going to put his instrument away, until he saw us.

"Out kinda late for playing music, aren't you?"

"Hoping to bring a quieter kind of beauty to the people leaving the Metropolitan Centre. But they're mostly gone now, so I was gonna head home. But, oh," he said, spotting the still-glowing CL logos on our hands. "Lovers out for a stroll, then?"

"Yes," I replied. "It's only our first official date, but we've been friends for a couple of weeks."

"Wow," he said, scratching his head with the hand that wasn't holding the mandolin, "that's fast. But from where I'm sitting, looks like the beginnings of true love."

"I hope so," Iris said before I could.

"Me too," I agreed, looking at her and noticing in surprise that the flower from earlier was still in her hair.

"Well dang, but I'm a sucker for love and romance. I can't put my mandolin away yet; this calls for a slow-dance song. That is, if you're interested?"

I looked to Iris, and was glad to see the radiant grin on her face as she nodded excitedly.

"Okay then, one slow song coming up," the man said, positioning his mandolin to play again. I didn't know what to do with my arms at first, and nor did she, but soon I had mine draped over her shoulders, and her arms were around my waist.

The musician sent a simple chord into the night to start, then began to weave a lovely slow song I didn't recognize around us as we began to sway to the music. It was lovely but awkward, and it didn't take long for Iris to try standing on my feet to get her head closer to mine; it wasn't terribly effective. It was also rather painful for me, so in even less time I lifted her up and set her standing on a nearby park bench, where the height difference was much more manageable.

Iris leaned her head on me under my chin, and I rested the soft part under my jaw onto her head. We held each other close and swayed gently to the simple, calm, beautiful music he played for us. It was like time slowed down, and nothing else existed outside of Iris, myself, and the man playing the music. Even the man seemed far away, and his music might have been part of the fabric of reality, the mandolin's strings singing the two of us into existence as though she and I were the very reason for there being a reality at all. The mandolin player was God, and we were His creation.

It felt like we were there in that personal Paradise dancing for hours, but it wasn't that long. My Omnus beeped with a message from Jeeves saying he was coming to pick us up now, or we wouldn't have time to get back by 11. I lifted my head to tell Iris, and noticed she was asleep in my arms, only chance and my grip on her keeping her from falling.

The man stopped playing shortly after my Omnus beeped, and he looked at me questioningly. I mouthed, "My car says we have to go home or we'll be late," and he nodded, mouthing back, "You cherish her." I responded with a silent "I think I already do," and his grin was the biggest I'd seen it all night. It was still probably dwarfed by my own.

As quickly as I dared while still being very cautious not to wake her, I took Iris up in my arms and carried her over to where Jeeves was pulling up. No doubt seeing my predicament with his cameras, Jeeves opened both front doors at once. Because it didn't really matter and because it was closer, I put her in the so-called "driver's" seat while I got in the passenger's side instead. After making sure we were both clear of his doors, he closed them. Iris was already secure; I secured myself and Jeeves began to drive away towards home.

She slept the whole way there, and I spent that same time just watching her sleep with what I hoped was a beatific grin on my face. It wasn't until Jeeves pulled up and opened the doors that she woke up a little, mumbling about how she was trying to sleep. But she woke up enough in the time it took me to get to her side of the car that she was able to talk while I held her in my arms.

"I had lots of fun tonight, Rianna," she mumbled at me. "I hope we can do something else soon."

"Likewise, my little Iris blossom."

I carried her to the door. Someone inside must have been watching for us, because I didn't even have to knock when the door opened. Matria stood there, looking at Iris in momentary concern before recognizing that her poor little sweetheart was all tuckered out and barely awake.

"Mama, can Rianna curryme ta ma bed?" Iris slurred wearily.

"Of course, sweety. Rianna, follow me."

Wishing I'd gotten Iris into a better hold first, I struggled to follow Matria upstairs into Iris's bedroom. Sadly, I didn't get a good look at the room, as it was dark, lit only by a night-light. I lay her in bed and kissed her forehead.

"I dinnit... I dinnit brush my teef yet," she slurred so badly I felt certain she'd fall asleep on the spot, but she didn't.

"That's okay, sweety; one night isn't going to make a huge difference. You just go to sleep."

"Goonight," Iris said thickly. "See ya layder, Ri... Ri..." and then she was asleep again.

*

After saying my goodbyes to Matria, I told Jeeves to drive himself home, because I wanted to walk. "Yes, Rianna," was all he said, but it sounded both exasperated and amused.

As he drove off, I walked along the sidewalk, feeling almost like I was floating home, I felt so amazing. Looking back, I'd say I was drunk or high on romance, pleasantly intoxicated by Iris and the romance of the night. I felt briefly annoyed that I hadn't gotten the mandolin player's name, but it was quickly crowded out by my mind replaying that dance in the park. In that moment, I could barely even remember the event we'd gone to except as something small on the horizon of my memories. I must have looked really sappy as I twirled and swayed with an invisible dance partner as I walked home.

I barely even noticed Jeeves in his parking spot when I approached my house, and I don't actually remember getting from the front yard to the inside of my house, I was so lost in my own little world, but I somehow managed to brush my teeth and get changed for bed, deciding I'd shower in the morning.

You might think I masturbated, but honestly, I was too far lost in my romantic high for it to even cross my mind. It felt like both hours and just mere minutes I lay there giggling like a fool, staring at the ceiling and sighing with a shuddering catch in my chest every few minutes. At some point, my now-embroidered memories of dancing with Iris drifted into dreams. I slept better that night than I had in months, even though I twirled and spun with my lovely Iris for what felt like all night long, on a ballroom floor made of flower petals and rainbows.

~ ~ ~

(To be continued)