Can't Keep a Good Elf Down Ch. 07

((I'd like to thank a veritable cadre of friends who've inspired me to write again. This was started six years ago, rewritten twice from scratch, and nearly dumped into the recycle bin. It's been a long time coming, and I do hope you like it! As always, feedback is eagerly awaited!))

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Fiona Briette-Blue, a woman of medium height and stark white waist-length hair, sighed from behind the counter of a small, yet highly specialized shop. Lithe and lean, she'd spent her whole life training, crafting, living and breathing weapons and munitions. Fiona knew of at least seventy ways to kill a man from any given angle, distance, or situation, not that she would ever use that knowledge. A legacy from her family, turned into a lucrative small business that a certain cyber-enhanced elf frequented rather regularly. Metal gleamed from the walls, reflecting the early afternoon sunlight. Weapons of every available shape and size adorned the walls, some edged, others more complex. However, business was rather slow of late.

Hope of a more exciting day appeared in the sound of a high-revving motorcycle engine, and the squeal of tires outside her shop's main window. Fiona smiled as the door creaked open, causing a welcoming jingle from the overhanging bell. "Psly!" she yelled, "what's got you comin' by my shop today?"

"Nuttin' but'a bit'a conversation, an' mebbe them titanium arrows Ah ordered las' month." Pslyder winked as he grinned widely; it was a long running joke between the two, as he always made his own arrow shafts. No "elf" worth his pointy ears ever did otherwise. "Got any caf brewin' up inna back yet?"

Fiona laughed, "You and your ultra-spiffy arrows. Yeesh. And yes, I'd just brewed up a pot to keep myself awake until closing. Cream and sugar?" Briefly, the mention of cream brought about a memory of a month or two earlier. Pslyder and his friend Harris had come up with a brilliant moneymaking idea, in the form of a risqué "Ladies of Rhy'Din" calendar, complete with a small biography on the women adorning the pages. Fiona had opted for the final shoot, as the Lady of the Month for December.

Psly nodded, before a shiny sharp-and-pointy-object caught his eye. Fiona chuckled to herself, preparing two mugs of the stout coffee as she reminisced on that entertaining day. Most of the women involved had opted for fancy and revealing costumes provided by one of the clothing shops in town, but Fiona decided to be somewhat different in her choice of attire. As an added bonus, her clever little idea was worlds less expensive to make.

She'd shown up dressed normally, and went in the back to change as Psly and his blue-haired counterpart (the blue being from extreme coloration, not age) prepared the bar for their photo shoot. All preparations had ceased the moment she opened the door and stepped out into the room. Both men were rendered speechless, as her costume was nothing more than a long strand of wide red ribbon, tied with a bow in the back, that stretched across her ample chest and darted down, passing between her thighs and up her spine to meet the cross-wise band. Red leather boots and a typical Santa hat completed the costume, accenting the ruby-red nail polish and matching lip-gloss. In one hand, she held the other half of her costume idea. A large can of spray-on whipped cream. On several nights since, she'd lain in bed, lazily stroking herself to the memories of slipping out of the ribbon and covering her nipples and thatch in whipped cream as the cameras flashed in rapid succession. Fiona chuckled quietly as she stirred the coffee, her mind drifting back to the image of Psly, pounding his head against the hardwood bar in order to keep his mind on the task at hand, instead of bodily tossing Harris out the window and pouncing on her.

Shaking herself out of the reverie, Fiona took a steaming cup in each hand and walked back out to the showroom where Psly was idly perusing the merchandise. For a moment, she was grateful that her thick apron and gray jumpsuit hid her tightened nipples from view. "Coffee's ready, Psly. Finding everything alright?"

"Eh, y'know how Ah work, chica. Ah jus' browse fer'a bit b'fo' makin' up mah mind. How's th' biz t'day?" Psly chatted nonchalantly as he looked at the various implements on display. He'd finally scored an off day, and Fiona's shop was oddly relaxing. Might have been the company, or the fact that he could come at any time dressed up or down and get the same, friendly, non-worshipping service. Fawning toadies were best filed under bulldrek that got old fast. Psly made his way to the counter to accept one of the cups with a genuine look of gratitude. "Thanks, petit. This's gon' hit th' spot right nice."

As she took a careful sip, Fiona casually took a glance over her friend's wardrobe. From the denim jeans and jacket to the cotton button-down shirt to the untied combat boots, everything spoke of being comfortable. "I see they finally let you take a breather. It's about time, if you ask me. You work too hard, Psly." She paused for a moment, enjoying more of the coffee. "Tell you what. How about we both take a break? Business is rather slow today, and I don't see any of those rich snobby types coming in to make a purchase that would be worth me being bored out of my skull. Care to walk some in the market district with me?"

Psly chuckled a little behind his cup. "Takin' me shoppin', darlin'? Whaht will th' neighbors think?" Ever the caffeine fiend, Psly blew on his coffee a moment to cool it further, and then drained the cup as fast as he could swallow. "Ahhh," he sighed, "Much better. Ah don' see how some browsin' could hurt." He set the cup on the counter and smiled. "Want some help changin' or should Ah keep m'self busy out heah?"

Fiona laughed, placing her cup near his. "Only if you plan to get out of here a lot later than it would take me changing by myself, ya lech," she teased, "You keep looking at the blades, and I'll be back in a jif." With that, she spun on her heel and walked into the back, her former dark mood brightened considerably.

A few moments later, after a rapid change into a flowing knee-length tan skirt, white blouse, matching tan vest, and heeled boots, Fiona was nearly dragging Psly into the beginnings of Rhy'Din's main shopping district, a few blocks away from her shop. She'd picked the location with the mindset that most of her serious customers wouldn't want to go into a weapons store next to a perfume merchant. "C'mon, slowpoke! I haven't been shopping in ages!" Already, the stroll in the afternoon sun had done wonders to lighten her spirits.

Psly, cursed with the typical male mentality of what shopping entailed, groaned inwardly. It seemed that the first place Fiona was bee lining towards was the dreaded shoe store, bane of all men's existence. Ah well, he thought, what else were friends for, except to rescue each other from boredom and misery? Looking around, Psly noticed a distinct lack of customers. It would seem most people in this town did their shopping either much earlier or much later in the day. As far as he was concerned, that was all to the good. That made for a distinct lack of inane conversation.

Fiona danced happily from row to row, grabbing a decent number of boxes in her size. The lone sales clerk, a youngish man of middling looks and personality, nearly tripped over his own feet trying to rush over to where Fiona had set the boxes down. She smiled at him, letting the clerk take a few of the shoes out as she levered off one of the boots. "Hey, Psly?" she asked, "You still remember that calendar idea you and Harris had a month or so back?" Looking down, she stood and walked around in the sandal the clerk had put on her foot, wrinkling her nose in distaste. "Nah, not that one. It just doesn't feel right."

Psly shrugged from his seat. "Ayeah. Thaht camera's still collectin' dust up in mah closet, matter'a fact. Somethin' tells me we ain't gonna get another shot at thaht. Seemed like a good idea at th' time, though. Why d'ya ask?" The cyber-elf slouched further down in his seat, idly calling up an old music video from his headware memory into a picture-in-picture display in his field of vision.

After trying on a third shoe without finding the right fit, Fiona selected a pair of teal sandals and glanced over at Psly, her eyes twinkling mischievously as an idea flitted through her head. "Oh, no real reason, I suppose." She turned to better face him, then bent down to adjust the sandal on her foot for a moment. Psly, being ever attentive, couldn't help but shut off the video as he found himself staring straight down her blouse to her belly button, even catching a glimpse of nipple on either side of the parted fabric. Slowly, he adjusted his mirrorshades and straightened in his seat, taking in the view.

Fiona held her pose for a moment, wondering if Psly had noticed her "accidental" flash, before the polite cough of the sales clerk jolted her off balance and made her sit down abruptly in surprise. However, the chair that could've been helpful instead showed the perversity of the inanimate, stubbornly being about two feet away from Fiona's target zone. Feet flying uncomfortably ceiling-ward, Fiona's skirt fluttered up to hip level as she landed on her ass and rolled back to her shoulder blades. Both the sales clerk and Psly were momentarily motionless, staring at Fiona's white-cotton clad crotch before jumping to help the poor girl to her feet.

The lovely white-haired young woman stood for a brief moment, straightening her attire, then excused herself to the clerk, paid for the sandals, and nearly dragged Psly from the store. Soon, the pair found themselves in front of an al fresco style restaurant, where Fiona's stomach protested the profound lack of attention up to that point. Psly, ever keen of hearing and feeling a mite peckish himself, spoke up.

"So, how's a bite ta eat sound?" The elf stood, smiling patiently.

Fiona, her mind still occupied by Psly's and the clerk's reaction, shook her head slightly. "Oh! Sure, I suppose. Why not?"

They took a seat outside, Psly flagging down a passing waiter for a menu. Absently, Fiona glanced over the specials and such, before pointing at some random soup-and-sandwich deal, paired with a lager from the local brewery. Psly took it easy on the fellow, saying two of the same would do just fine. The cyber-elf noted how distracted she seemed to be, and wisely kept his trap shut while they waited, silently indicating for a second round of lager once the waiter brought their mugs to the table.

Fiona was most certainly distracted, her brain warring between mortification and excitement over what the two men witnessed. In a way it was nearly the same as her photo shoot. The differences were how public the accident was, though what was shown could be considered outright tame by comparison. A flush rose to her cheeks, and Fiona stood.

"I'll be right back, Psly. Gotta use the potty." Decorum not being her strongest suit, after all. Rapidly, Fiona dashed through the restaurant and into the ladies' room, where she took a good long look at her reflection in the mirror as a multitude of conflicting thoughts scrambled through her mind.

"What am I doing?" She thought to herself. "I mean, it's a giggle watching him try not to look down my blouse, but him and that clerk seeing under my skirt? Gods that was embarrassing!" She blushed, turning into the stall to relieve herself. Fiona sat there, finished her business, and sat there a little longer, pondering and thinking. "But ... " Excitement finally won out, and something sparked in her mind. She smiled, the evil grin getting wider and wider as she simply cleaned herself, flushed, and stepped out of the white cotton panties. Fiona picked them up, looked around, and casually dropped them into the wastebasket, her excitement showing clearly in the form of diamond-hard nipples, poking against her loosened blouse. She let the skirt drop back down, settling around her knees again, and left the restroom with a newfound flounce to her step.

Fiona managed to make it back to the table without causing a stir, though she felt very flushed at the new sensations of the breeze tickling the thatch of white hair at her crotch, alternating between shockingly cool and blazingly hot between her labia as more and more moisture seeped out with each new tingle. She carefully dropped into her seat, eyeing the meal in front of her hungrily, and a smile crossed her face as she saw Psly had already started digging into his portions. She finished her food quickly, almost disappointed at the long tablecloth that hid her newly-free state from everyone passing by, no matter how much her legs danced around with the excited foot-tapping she found herself doing.

Psly waved down the waiter, taking the check and paying for the meal before Fiona could protest, and sat back with a contented sigh, while his mirrorshades hid the occasional glance to the pair of small protrusions on the front of her blouse. "A'ight then, were we goin' to next?"

"Oh I thought we could look at some of the summery fashion shops," Fiona replied with a mysterious smile. All sorts of thoughts were racing through her mind as she looked around. Psly let out another sigh, this one not as content, but in for a penny, he thought to himself.

The waiter returned with the change, and Psly waved it off with a grin. "Keep it, chummer. Them were some good eats." They both stood, and walked casually down the street, where a window full of colorful outfits caught Fiona's eye. "Ooooh, Psly! Let's go in here!" She playfully tugged at his hand, dragging him towards the door to the shop and inside. Psly followed, chuckling softly to himself. His expression got more introspective, as he took note of the outfits Fiona was picking out.

She took an armful of them with her towards the dressing room, pausing near a seat by the opening. "You sit here so you can tell me how they look! And I want your honest opinion, alright?" She giggled softly as Psly took a seat, leaning back as comfortably as he could manage, then she slipped into the changing room to set the outfits down. Fiona turned to close the curtain, and paused with a wicked little smile, drawing the curtain mostly closed, and began shrugging out of her blouse, wondering what all Psly might see in the mirror. She gasped after she slipped the skirt over her hips, touching her slit with a finger and marveling at how slick she was. She stood there a moment, looking at her naked body in the mirror, turning this way and that, admiring the way her white hair fell down her back, and how the thatch of white blended well with her slightly-tanned skin. She hadn't made a habit of sunbathing in her life, but genetics had blessed her with a mildly olive skin-tone that offset the paleness of her hair very well.

She picked up a cute little spaghetti-strapped top made of soft linen in navy blue and slipped it over her head, tugging it down to cover her breasts. It stopped at her mid-riff, and Fiona couldn't help but gently trail a finger over her stiffened nipples as they poked out the fabric. She reached down to grab a short ruffled skirt of a much darker blue and turned to step into it, before the proverbial devil on her shoulder whispered a naughty little thought into her ear, metaphorically speaking. "Oops!" Fiona giggled, letting go to let the skirt fall to the carpet.

Psly was peering around the store, almost enjoying the quiet and spotting a few other things he wouldn't mind seeing Fiona in, when her voice caught his attention, causing him to turn his head just in time to see her squat down to grab the fallen skirt. His eyes went wide behind the mirrorshades as he was treated to an unobstructed view between Fiona's spread legs, his eyes locking in on the image of the trimmed patch of white perched above a pair of glistening lips, almost beckoning as they spread while he watched.

Fiona carefully looked over her shoulder, spotting Psly in the mirror, catching him with a slack-jawed expression on his face. She laughed silently, fiddling with the skirt for a very brief moment before standing again and stepping into it, turning fully to look at herself again. She frowned a little, seeing that the blue just didn't look quite right against her skin tone. Her gaze drifted over the other clothes, finally falling on a muted green outfit much like the blue one, and she quickly stepped out of the skirt while shrugging the top off, letting both fall down to her feet. This color would be perfect with her new sandals, she thought, and she slipped into the faux-chemise and skirt to pirouette in the mirror, smiling. The skirt, just a little shorter than the one Fiona had dropped, came to rest a good six inches above her knee, and looked fabulous against her skin. She spun again, going wide-eyed and breathless as the skirt plated out to hint at showing the bottoms of the globes of her ass, and very nearly came up high enough to show off white hair. "I'm gonna have to be careful in this!" She thought to herself, the grin threatening to become a permanent feature on her face.

Fiona flung open the curtain, leaving the rest of the outfits on the bench, with her blouse and skirt hanging over one arm, her boots dangling from the other hand. "Well Psly? What do you think of this?" She giggled and pirouetted in front of him, much slower this time, so as to not give anything away.

Psly's response was a slow, low-pitched whistle, followed by a quirky grin. "Thaht looks downright dangerous on ya, Fi. Ah think Ah'm gon' hafta find m'self a nice heavy stick t'fend 'em off'a ya." He chuckled, his eyes trailing up and down from toes to the top of Fiona's head, just enjoying the sight.

Fiona simply giggled, slipped on the sandals, and handed her old clothes to Psly. "You mind carrying these for me? I've gotta go pay for this!" She slipped her money pouch out of the pocket of her old skirt, and nearly skipped on the way to the counter where she paid quickly for her new outfit. She brought a bag over for Psly to drop the garments and boots into, so they wouldn't be overly cumbersome as they walked.

Now Psly, as some may remember, had possession of a certain jewel, a mark of rank in the dueling community. It was an Opal, yellow in coloration, somewhat magical in nature, and uniquely named MoonBeryl. Unlike the other four Opals, the effects of MoonBeryl were singular in nature. As they walked, Psly looked down at Fiona, marveling at her cleavage for a while, before he chanced on an evil little notion of his own. He stopped just before stepping up onto a covered walkway, calling on the Opal's ability to move objects with a thought, and telekinetically gave Fiona's clit a tiny little nudge.

Fiona, who was becoming more and more excited with every sway of her hips and rush of air along her nearly soaking slit, didn't even have time to speak at Psly's pause before she felt a very physical friction on her nub, causing her breath to hitch in her chest. And more importantly, making her foot to not quite gain enough altitude for her sandal to clear the step. She stumbled forward, catching herself with her hands before she fell, and took a second to let her eyes flutter as she fought from moaning out loud.

Psly, meanwhile, stood behind her, grinning wildly as he recorded and took photo after photo of her now bared ass, all the while keeping an ear out for any other lucky passersby. Fiona finally regained her feet, the skirt falling back into place, and turned to Psly with a quizzical expression. "Wow, I am kinda klutzy today, aren't I?" Psly only chuckled softly in response. Then, a suggestion came to mind. "'Ow 'bout some coffee? Ah'm needin' a caffeine booster. B'sides, y'din't ever tell me why y'brought up thaht ol' photo shoot thang like y'did."