Sarah woke to the sound of her phone buzzing against the floor. Sleepily, she felt around till she got her hands on the vibrating device and groggily answered.

“Mister Bredero?”

“That’s Bray-duh-row,” the man replied, “Not Breederoh. And you can call me by my first name.”

Sarah mouthed the words along as he said them. She only got the name wrong when she was just up, but he still seemed to take it personally.

“Sure, Tracy,” she said lamely, pushing herself up, “What can I do for you at… What even is the time?”

“Six AM, give or take,” Bredero continued, “But I have work for you.”

“How original,” Sarah answered flatly, running her hand through her hair and suppressing a yawn, “What do you need?”

“I’ve emailed it to you…”

“Then why wake me up?” Sarah moaned, dropping back to her bed, “You know I keep office hours.”

“Inspiration strikes when it does, miss Becker, now if you could get on to that as soon as possible…”

“Whatever,” Sarah said, “After nine.”

She didn’t wait for Tracy Bredero to answer, instead opting to turn her phone off and dropping it back to the carpet.

The still bare room felt as alien as when she went to bed the night before. The borrowed pajamas were comfortable, but those too felt strange on her skin.

“Guess I’ll sleep a little longer,” she mumbled to herself and pulled the down covers back over again, though being hyper-aware of the strange room she was in, she couldn’t get back to sleep.

She rolled around for another twenty minutes, then decided to get out of bed instead.

After giving herself a minor heart attack by stepping on her phone and almost putting her full weight on it, she looked around for her clothes, realizing they were gone.

A moment of panic caught hold of her and with jolt of panic, she ran for the door, finding that it opened without problems. She giggled to herself, feeling silly at the thought that somebody would have locked her in a turret as if she were Rapunzel. She stepped into the hallway, looking at the floor to not have to bother with the paintings on the wall. Diana had proudly showed off the collection on this floor, which wasn’t really to Sarah’s taste. ‘Shunga’ she had called the paintings. Sarah had simply called it ‘medieval Japanese pornography’. She had politely nodded as Diana had enthusiastically pointed out the favorites in the works, though all the huge genitals on the pictures did was make Sarah uncomfortable. She stopped in front of what Diana had claimed to be her absolute favorite in which a man was penetrating one woman with his own equipment, while also penetrating the woman behind him with a marital aide tied to his waist.

Sarah looked at the ancient scribbles, which Diana had offered to translate for her, though Sarah had hastily said she’d rather see her room.

Even though none of the people on the drawing had their eyes towards the frame, Sarah felt watched by them and hurriedly headed down the stairs, hearing and smelling the signs that somebody was baking.

Sarah wasn’t one to talk to people in the morning, but wanting a glass of water, she relented to having to deal with whoever was cooking and hoped they weren’t a chipper morning person.

She yawned widely when she entered the kitchen, muttering a good morning as she opened her eyes, stopping mid sentence as she did. She wasn’t sure where to look first. The floor or what awaited her in the kitchen. A woman was bent over the oven, quite a feat on the heels she had on. Black stockings led up to her hips, where they were overtaken by her garter belt that disappeared under the garter skirt, which formed the accentuation to her cobalt satin underwear. The frilly garment did little to cover up her well toned backside that looked like it could’ve been hewn from marble. Though even as the result of a million squats faced Sarah, what mostly stood out to her was what appeared to be a leathery tail dangling between the woman’s legs. She assumed it was part of the underwear, but that did not explain why it lazily swept to and fro. She assumed that maybe the woman had been dancing.

Sarah stared until the woman, was it Diana, rose from her crouch, then ducked back into the hallway, almost knocking one of the many paintings from the wall.

“Sarah?”

Diana’s voice drifted from the kitchen, melodiously elocuting both syllables of her name, “Is that you?”

There was a moment of silence, then the sound of something being picked up, some light taps of a nail on plastic, then Diana starting to speak. Sarah assumed Diana was probably on the phone, though she couldn’t make out what was being said. Mostly, because Diana appeared to be speaking Russian.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

She heard a chair scrape across the floor, then the sound of somebody sitting down.

Sighing in relief, Sarah stepped into the kitchen finding Diana chatting happily on the phone. She wasn’t dressed, but Sarah was glad to see that she had at least covered herself with an apron. She smiled when she saw Sarah enter, mouthed a good morning, then continued her phone call.

Sarah absent-minded rummaged around the kitchen cabinets until she found a glass, feeling Diana’s eyes on her as she filled it from the tap, then sat down at the table across from her.

Diana immediately rounded off her call and placed her phone face down on the table.

“You’re up early.”

“Boss called,” Sarah shrugged, sipping off her water, “Sorry to intrude on your...private time?”

Diana leaned back in her chair, “I’m just baking, you’re not intruding.”

“At this hour? In that outfit?”

“Heat bothers me,” Diana said, pouting, “But a lady still has to look her best, doesn’t she?”

“I guess,” Sarah replied, still not properly opening her mouth, sure her hair looked like somebody had set off a firecracker in it, and the pajamas she had borrowed were wearing her more than the other way around.

It stayed silent for some time. The awkward only punctuated by the soft scrape of a tray in the oven meeting the metal walls. Sarah took the silence to study the pattern on Diana’s apron, little devils dancing with angels, and her still groggy brain connected that the tail she had seen was just a novelty part of that.

“So,” she said, “Always up this early?”

Diana smiled, “I haven’t gone to bed yet, I wanted to call my sister.”

“You’re Russian?”

“...Sorority sister,” Diana hastily corrected, “She is Russian.”

“Huh. And you learned Russian just for her? Where did you go to college?”

“Russia,” was the dry reply.

“Should’ve guessed,” Sarah mumbled.

The silence fell again until Diana’s phone rang.

It was a familiar sound to Sarah, who had watched the cartoon the noise was from religiously when she was a child. In the show, the sound came from a high tech compact mirror that doubled as a phone. Here in the kitchen the sound just seemed absurd to her.

She giggled at the noise. Diana just patiently observed Sarah from behind her glasses.

“You’re not going to answer that?”

“I’m talking to you, aren’t I?”

The phone stopped ringing, only to be replaced by a chime from the oven.

“Now, that, I do have to check,” Diana said, getting up from the table, “Should I make coffee while I’m up?”

“If you want to,” Sarah mumbled, fixing her eyes tightly to the wooden table she was sitting at, trying not to look at the half naked woman going about her business. Which was made harder when Sarah realized she was sitting with the coffee maker in full view. She closed her eyes when she saw Diana head for the machine.

“You’re big on kids’ shows, huh?” she asked, distracting herself from the perfectly shaped flesh in front of her.

Diana turned around hastily, almost tripping over her heels as she did. She leaned on the table and smiled wide, “You too?”

“I used to be...when I was little,” Sarah said weakly, unsure how to respond to the enthusiasm, “I recognized the sound from your phone.”

“Who was your favorite girl?” Diana said, relentless now that she had found something close to common ground.

“Uhhh...” Sarah stammered, trying to recall the names of the characters, “The one with the red hair?”

“Sam!”

“Yeah?” a new voice said.

It was a man that spoke, a boy really, that entered the kitchen.

“Oh, did we wake you, Sam?” Diana asked apologetically.

Sam was a lanky youth, probably in his late teens, that kept his hair buzzed short, which, combined with his physique, gave him the appearance of a kid’s first day at military school. As such, Sarah found his choice to walk around in just pajama bottoms strange.

“Hadn’t slept yet,” he yawned, scratching his stomach as he did, “The code…”

“The code can wait, Sam,” Diana said, “Go to bed.”

“But I just wanted one of your muh…”

Diana turned around and Sarah saw that she moved her glasses lower, probably glowering at Sam.

It was enough for him to turn heel and head to bed as told.

“So…” Sarah said when the boy was gone, “Sam’s the one that rarely leaves his room?”

Diana nodded, “He was supposed to stay here for a summer only, but he’s cute so I kept him.”

Sarah blinked, wondering what Diana thought cute about the gangly teen, then looked over shoulder to see what the ‘muh…’ Sam had been after were. It was a tray of hot muffins.

“You can have one,” Diana said, placing Sarah’s coffee in front of her, “I just baked them to have something to do while I was on the phone.”

Diana said down across from her with a cup of coffee.

“Aren’t you going to sleep soon?”

Diana smiled softly and brought the cup to her lips.

“Coffee doesn’t do much for me,” she said and downed the mug in one go, “Besides, I can sleep when I’m dead.”

It wasn’t some dramatic statement, Diana just seemed to like how it sounded.

The silence fell again, still just as awkward as before.

“Oh,” Sarah said, “Before I forget … where are my clothes?”

“In the laundry,” Diana said airily, “Thought you’d might like them clean.”

“I’d like if you didn’t sneak around me when I’m sleeping.”

Diana did not seem taken aback by the snappy tone.

“I’ll put a laundry basket next to your door then,” she said calmly, “Are you still going out with your aunt to get your belongings today?”

“She sent a text message last night. Apparently she is driving to Florida for a poker match.”

“Your aunt seems fun, but I think that leaves you stranded?”

“I’m sure there’s a bus here somewhere and I can go pick up my new car for the drive home.”

“I would’ve driven you, but I don’t have a car and Cristal’s out of town too,” Diana said, she seemed to be musing more than talking to Sarah, “Should I call around for a ride?”

“...I’ll take the bus.”

“Suit yourself. Oh, about the house rules…”

“Yes?”

“Do you have any jewelry?”

“Not a whole lot.”

“Ah. Well, if there’s any religious iconography in there, I don’t care what denomination, keep it in a box and never take it out in the house.”

Sarah frowned, then shrugged, “Whatever you say, your house. …I guess I’ll get started on work then.”

“Do you want me to bring you more coffee?”

Sarah smiled, getting up from the table, “Only if you put on more clothes first.”

Diana gave Sarah a playful pout as she headed back upstairs, then shrugged and picked up her phone to see who had called.