“There,” Simone utters in satisfaction. She lifts a mirror to Crank’s face. “Have a look. Not so bad. If I do say so myself.”

Crank takes the mirror from Simone’s hand. He stares as the resulting image in disbelief. Not much of his original face remains, except his eyes. Which are partially covered by an artificial eyelid. Portions of the ooman masks are strategically adhered to his face, to give him the appearance of an ooman. Carefully applied makeup hides Crank’s usual yellow-green complexion. The illusion is further created by a pair of sideburns, a mustache, beard, and other facial hair.

Crank is unable to keep from admiring Simone’s handiwork. She even incorporates different shades of hair color into the disguise; using the bundles of hair and the hair from the plastic head. For the most part, Crank looks every bit like an ooman. He is unsure whether to be thrilled or disturbed.

“See,” Simone says jubilantly. “Piece of cake.”

Patting Crank’s shoulder, Simone retrieves a pair of jeans and a blouse from the same bag which once held Crank’s oversized hoodie.

“I realize that my outfit disturbs you," Simone comments offhandedly. "I’ll be back in a minute."

Simone turns to leave, but Crank reaches out with catlike reflexes and grips her forearm with a powerful hand. He tilts his head in typical yautja fashion. Sadness seeps into his golden-brown eyes.

“Do you trust me?” Crank asks.

Crank's voice is even more distorted by his new human face. Simone’s eyes travel to the humanlike lips, and she is surprised to feel something akin to disgust. She is already missing his true face. Not to mention, how long will they be able to keep this up? She used nearly half of the supplies to create this one disguise. She'll need to get him somewhere safe. Someplace where he will have very limited contact with real humans. But where? And how? They'll need transportation. Simone returns her thoughts to the present, focusing on Crank’s original question.

“Of course, I trust you,” Simone says.

She pats the clawed hand resting on her arm. Leaning close to his chair, Simone kisses Crank’s forehead, trying to push down the sudden revulsion in the pit of her stomach at his human transformation.

“But we’re not quite to the show and tell stage,” Simone says with a coy smile.

Crank slides an arm around Simone’s waist and stares pleadingly into her eyes. The closeness of her body brings a wistful smile to his face.

“Because I am yautja?” he inquires.

“No,” Simone answers honestly. “It's because…I’ve recently had my heart broken and don’t think it’s a good idea to rush into anything new. I don’t know if things like that happen on your world…But, it can make things a little complicated. You’re a good friend, Crank. I find you to be…Very honorable. And I’d like to keep it that way as long as I can.”

Crank refuses to release her, his bond with the ooman female growing stronger with each passing minute. He searches for the right words to express this new feeling which has taken hold of him.

“Do you believe the universe put us together, Simone?” Crank asks, taking Simone by surprise.

Simone narrows her eyes, a tiny smile tugging at her mouth. Again, such a human thing to say.

“I don’t think I’m any authority on what the universe has ordained,” Simone replies. “I used to find ways to explain everything that went right in the world. I once believed my husband was sent to me by the gods. He seemed so perfect. We almost fit together like a glove. But here I am. Abandoned and alone. There is no cosmic plan. At least, I don’t believe so. Not anymore.”

Crank shakes his head vigorously, his beaded braids shifting with the effort.

“But you are not alone,” Crank says. “You are here, now…With me.”

Simone’s brows arch and moisture pools in her eyes. Such an impossible situation. So many emotions. With a sad sigh, she gently removes Crank’s arm from around her waist. She motions toward a couple of pairs of steel-toed boots on the floor.

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“I bought two different sizes. In case, one pair doesn’t fit,” she says. “Your feet are only slightly bigger than my ex’s. He was a big guy too. I’m sure one of them will work. I’m surprised no one’s noticed your feet before now. They’re a dead giveaway. Hurry and put them on. I want to see how well I did with that disguise. We’ll eat lunch at that old diner. Come on. Hurry up. Oh, and keep your gloves on. If anyone asks…You have a metal allergy. I knew a woman like that once. Back in a flash.”

Simone goes into the bathroom and shuts the door. Crank sighs and looks over at the ooman shoes. He has no great desire to put them on.

-

-

When Simone emerges from the bathroom; she is dressed in a simple button-down blouse, denim jeans, and sneakers. Her outfit of nearly chitinous black is slung over one arm, and she carries her pointed heel boots in the opposite hand. Tossing everything on the sofa, Simone crosses to the pile of debris left on the floor when she assembled Crank's human disguise.

Crank watches her from beside the bed. His brow creases and he tilts his head questioningly. Simone no longer appears to him as she once did. Without the shiny armor of chitin black, and the shoes which scrape the floor like many clawed talons; she bears no resemblance to the fearsome Keinde Amedha. The black serpent. The murderer of his glorious ancestor and countless other kin. As Simone kneels on the floor, clearing away trash and leftover crafting materials, she looks every bit as ooman as he knows her to be.

Stuffing all unnecessary odds and ends into a single bag, Simone ties it off and tosses it into the trash bin. She grins and claps both hands. Her eyes are shining with inner mischief when she turns to Crank.

"Tada," she exclaims. "Now, we can go. Don't want housekeeping coming in, while we're gone, and finding such a mess. Who knows what they'll think was going on in here. Might even kick us out."

Simone begins to laugh until she notices Crank's somber mood.

"Crank? What's bothering you?" Simone utters, staring at the solemn yautja with growing concern.

Crank steps to where Simone is standing. He studies her the whole way. Simone grows tense as he reaches up a hand to cup her face. He continues to regard her intense scrutiny. All of which, makes Simone very uncomfortable. Using his opposite hand, Crank traces the outline of Simone's face. An imitation of a human smile distorts the disguise he now wears.

"So ooman," Crank says mockingly.

Simone shoots him a sarcastic smirk and rolls her eyes.

"So what?" she retorts.

Simone's anxiety melts away and she exhales softly. Crank is all smiles until Simone points across the room.

"Shoes! Now! Chop Chop!" Simone says in a matronly tone.

She performs a chopping motion, with her hands, as she says this. The smile drops from Crank's disguised lips and his brow becomes deeply creased with lines.

"I'm not kidding, Crank," Simone says. "Anyone peeps those size-fourteen feet of yours and the game's over! You're lucky most people can't see the nose on the front of their own faces. All it takes is one Nosey Nell, and...Please, just put the shoes on, Crank!"

Simone bursts into laughter as Crank continues to stand there; pouting and obviously very adverse to the whole idea. Simone places a hand on his cheek. The feel of the mask, under her palm, causes Simone to hesitate. She uses her silkiest, most convincing voice. She figures, putting on her most puppy-innocent expression won't hurt either.

"Please, Crank," she pleads. "Do it for me?!?"

Even this antic almost isn't enough to spur Crank to put on the dreaded ooman shoes. He is prepared to protest, until he peers into Simone's eyes. She offers him her biggest smile yet. Feeling like the biggest of fools, Crank releases Simone and turns to walk away. She grips his hand, her eyelids lowering suggestively. She continues to smile.

"Thank you, Crank!" she says.

Once again, there is a strange twinkle in Simone's eyes. Crank chitters frustratedly to himself and moves toward where the boots lie on the floor. Simone only releases his hand when their distance demands it. Crank chooses the largest pair of boots and glances up at Simone. She is once again by his side.

"Do you want me to help you?" Simone asks.

Crank is still bitter about having to wear the footwear at all. He nods his head. Simone points to the bed.

"Sit there," she instructs.

Cranks sits on the edge of the bed, and the bed creaks noisily. Simone stifles a laugh and begins untying one of the boot's laces. She loosens it enough to where she believes she can slide it onto Crank's foot. With or without his yautja footwear? Now, that is the ooman question. Not wishing to inconvenience Crank further, by making him feel more alien in a new world; Simone decides it is better if he keeps his natural footwear on as well. She prepares to put the boot on Crank's foot. However, he halts her with a hand under her chin. Simone peers up at him in surprise.

"No," Crank says sternly.

Simone believes he is returning to his previous petulant attitude about the footwear. She releases a defeated sigh.

"Crank...We talked about thi--," Simone says.

"No," Crank repeats. "You are not a rahvaa...A servant. I will put the ooman footwear on myself."

Simone watches Crank as he takes the boot from her hand. She backs up, so that he can cross one leg over the other and wrench on the boot. He waits for Simone to loosen up the other boot, and then repeats the process. Simone shoots him an inquisitive look.

"Is it okay for me to tie them for you? Or is that a task only for rahvaas as well?" Simone teases. "Can't have you falling flat on your face. I won't be able to pick you up!"

Crank offers Simone another faux human smile. With a sinking feeling, she realizes that keeping up his disguise may be harder than she had originally imagined.