“Samson, are you good?”

They were dealing with a particularly troublesome apocalypse on this loop. The Marine Biology department were set to flood the island, and they were being particularly stubborn about not letting the loopers or any of their friends interfere. Lee and Harley were trying out some scheme involving a new friend Lee had made recently, leaving Vell to keep tabs on the younger loopers. He nervously cast a glance at the marine Biology department, just a few yards away, and then turned his full attention to Samson.

“I’ve been better,” Samson said. He glared at his twin brother, who was sitting across the table. Ibrahim was visibly frustrated by Vell’s approach, but he approached anyway.

“Worried about, uh, the day’s events?”

“Yeah, but not the ones you’re thinking of,” Samson sighed. “I’ve got to help this guy with date prep.”

Of all his brotherly duties, Samson hated date prep the most.

“Come on, Sammie, I need the assist,” Ibrahim said. “She’s the one!”

“As I recall, the last twenty-six were also the one,” Samson said.

“You’ve already dated twenty-six people at your age?”

Even with his unusually tempestuous recent dating life, Vell had only dated about seven and a half people, his odd sort-of one night stand with Leanne being the half.

“At his age?” Samson scoffed. “That’s since he got here.”

“It’s only been a few weeks,” Vell said, incredulously. “Where do you find the time?”

“I make time.”

“And it helps that he doubles up,” Samson said. Ibrahim merely shrugged, as if it was to be expected. “Or triples up.”

“Wait, really?” Vell said. “Do the women know that? Because if not-”

“Yeah man, whatever,” Ibrahim said. “Speaking of, where’s the chick in red? If I’m going to get bothered by you people, I at least want it to be by the hot one.”

“She’s busy with a new friend,” Vell said. “Where’s your date?”

“You just missed her. She had to go do a favor for some friends of hers,” Ibrahim shrugged. “It’ll be quick, she’s right over there.”

Ibrahim pointed in the direction of the Marine Biology lab. Vell’s eyes narrowed.

“Hold on-”

“Man, whatever you’re about to say, can it,” Ibrahim snapped. “I don’t need any lectures on dating from you, Mr. Ghost Army.”

“That’s just low,” Vell said. Apparently the story of his doomed attempt at a double date had gotten around. “And also entirely unrelated. Me dating a chick with a curse is entirely different from you cheating on people.”

“Cheating’s a strong word,” Ibrahim said. “It’s not like I’m really serious with any of these girls, if I actually catch feelings, I’ll stop-”

Samson snapped to attention, but it was not Ibrahim he was paying attention to.

“Ibs-”

“Don’t interrupt me, Sammie,” Ibrahim said. “But there’s a lot of options-”

“Ibs!”

“And I need to explore them all,” Ibrahim said. “As long as things are casual, it’s not cheating.”

“Ibrahim!”

“Okay, okay, I’m done, what is it?”

Samson said nothing. The loud sound of a throat being cleared called for Ibrahim’s attention, and he turned around to see three women in various states of anger staring down at him. Lee, Harley, and a third woman Vell didn’t know were all glaring down at him.

“Oh. Hey Skye.”

“Please, continue,” said the apparent Skye. Vell realized now that he recognized her, if only technically. He was pretty sure Skye had started in the same year as him, and they had passed each other while wandering campus dozens of times. Vell mostly knew that because of the shark tattoo on her shoulder. He liked tattoos.

“Hey, that was just, in general, you know,” Ibrahim said. “You’re the only girl I’m dating right now.”

“Oh, that is where you are wrong,” Skye said. “We are not dating, Ibrahim.”

After a few seconds of awkward, impotent stammering, Ibrahim looked around at Vell, Lee, and Harley. Upon further analysis, he decided that Skye did not keep good company, and probably wasn’t worth the trouble. He gave one final disgruntled huff and stormed off. Samson noted that he left his book bag behind and sighed. Yet another mess he was going to have to clean up after.

“I’m a little disappointed you didn’t slap him,” Harley said. “I thought we were all brimming with righteous feminist rage.”

“I like a good one-liner better than a slap,” Skye said. Lee nodded approvingly.

“So, you’re Lee’s new friend,” Vell said. He had begun to put the pieces together earlier, before being distracted by Ibrahim’s rampant philandering philosophy.

“And until recently, Ibrahim’s girlfriend,” Skye huffed. “Not that our whopping two dates were that great. I think you need to improve your date prep game, Samson.”

“I don’t even want to do this shit,” Samson said, referring to several topics at once. He shrugged off everything and left to chase down his brother and return the abandoned bookbag. Vell got the conversation back on track.

“So, I assume Skye helped you get the thing taken care of?”

“Expertly so, in fact,” Lee said. Skye had handled herself shockingly well for such short notice. All she’d had to do was change a few decimal points on a water manipulation device, but even such simple tasks were complicated by the Marine Biologists. They complicated everything they touched.

“Well, thanks,” Vell said. “Let me know if you ever need anything. We do try to pay back the incredibly weird favors we ask of people.”

“I’ll let you know,” Skye said. “Nice to finally meet you, Vell.”

Vell politely shook her hand and got back to business, heading off to get some schoolwork down.

“You’ve had a very interesting ten minutes, haven’t you?” Lee said to Skye. “Sorry that a simple favor ended up with you single.”

“You know what, Lee?”

Skye glanced at Vell, and raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t mind.”

----------------------------------------

“So your dad owns a whole ranch, huh?”

Skye walked side by side with Vell while Harley lingered a few steps behind. Technically they were all walking to class together, but Harley made sure to give the two some space. Vell and Skye barely even realized she was there after a while, which was just the way she wanted it.

“Yeah, mostly for dairy, horseback riding lessons, that kind of thing.”

“He ever do steaks?”

“Not often. Sometimes he gets a cow or two to slaughter, but there’s not much of a market for it anymore.”

“Shame. I like the lab grown stuff alright, but sometimes I just want to sink my teeth into a nice, juicy, authentic piece of meat, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it.”

“I better get a dinner invite next time steak are on the table, then,” Skye said, elbowing Vell in the side as she spoke.

“I’ll be sure to put you on the VIP list,” Vell said.

“Ooh. I’ll have to buy something nice to wear,” Skye said. “See you around, Vell.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

----------------------------------------

There were no steaks on the table, but Skye had scored an invite to one of Lee’s dinner parties anyway. She arrived a bit early to help Harley set the table while Lee finished cooking.

“Thank you for the help, dears,” Lee said, as he put a lid on her pot to let it simmer. “Give me a minute, Skye, I might have something for you.”

Lee ducked into her bedroom and returned moments later with a shimmering necklace. The sapphire blue centerpiece twinkled brightly on a long, silvery chain.

“My parents got me this,” Lee said. “I’ve got no interest in wearing it, and Harley refuses to wear anything that’s not red-”

“It’s my color,” Harley protested.

“-but I thought it might go well with your eyes.”

Skye extended a hand towards the necklace, and then pulled back at the last second.

“Oh, uh, real quick, what’s the chain made out of?”

“Platinum, I think.”

“Oh. Sure, let me try it on then,” Skye said. She finished clasping the necklace on just as Vell walked into the dorm with Cane and Luke in tow. She posed in their direction with a flourish to show off the new accessory. “How’s it look?”

Cane and Luke both figuratively and literally stepped aside. They knew who the question was really aimed at.

“Looks fantastic,” Vell said.

“Well, if Mr. Harlan approves, then it’s a keeper,” Skye said. “Thanks Lee.”

----------------------------------------

Harley kept her cards close to her chest and tried to appraise the reactions of her friends. The poker game was a little too easy for her liking. Lee wore her heart on her sleeve, as did Freddy. Cane and Vell were a bit better at hiding their emotions, but not by much. When it came to poker, Harley was as stoic as the face on the full moon shining in through the window of Vell’s dorm.

Vell’s terrible poker face got put on full display when his phone rang, and he tried not to look too excited.

“Hey, Skye, what’s up?”

“Hey Vell,” Skye said. Her voice sounded unusually hoarse and rough. “I just needed to let somebody know I’m not up for poker night. Things got a little hairy.”

“Oh, okay, I’ll let the guys know,” Vell said, trying to hide his disappointment. “It’s a shame. I know you were excited to see the guitar.”

“It’s a tragedy,” Skye said, with a weak chuckle. She was also a fan of Roxy Rocket, and had been angling to see the autographed guitar since she’d found out Vell had it. “How about giving me another chance? We could do lunch tomorrow. Just you and me.”

Vell went red in the face. Cane handed over some money to Harley, having lost a bet that had nothing to do with poker.

“Yeah. That’d be great, yeah,” Vell said. “Except, uh, just one thing, how about dinner? That’d be a bit more reliable. We might be dealing with something around lunch tomorrow.”

“Dealing with what?”

----------------------------------------

With an army of sheep/human hybrids, apparently. Vell took a few potshots at the approaching attackers, but there were too many to count and he only had a few bullets per gun. What few he did hit went down in a storm of screams and bleating.

The cloning lab had attempted to a clone a human and a sheep in two separate experiments, but thanks to a mixup, they had ended up creating an army of mindless hybrids -literal Sheeple. The woolen abominations had, in typical daily apocalypse fashion, gone on a rampage, one Vell and company were now trying to prevent.

“Get in your dorms, barricade yourselves in, and stay quiet,” Lee said.

Harley escorted some fleeing students into one of the dorm buildings and tried to slam the door shut behind them. A few of the mindless Sheeple followed the noise of the fleeing crowd and barged through the door before she could shut it completely. Vell turned towards Harley as the Sheeple pinned her to the ground, but by the time he could take aim, someone else had already taken rescuing Harley into their own hands, or rather their own mouth. Skye had jumped onto the Sheeple’s back and grappled it from behind -and bit it in the neck. It was the biting part more than anything that made Vell hesitate. That was just weird.

The biting worked to distract the Sheeple as well, and Harley managed to get herself out from under the monster. Skye got off its back, and Vell finished it off as she spat out a mouthful of mutant wool.

“Oh god. Does anyone have any gum?” Skye mumbled. “That tastes even worse than you’d think.”

“Why did you bite it?”

“I don’t have a gun or a laser beam or whatever,” Skye said, pointing out Vell’s revolvers and Harley’s armed drone. “I make do with what I have, and what I have is teeth.”

“Still. You’re going to be picking hairs out of your mouth all day, you know that, right?”

“God, I do,” Skye said. She picked a spare strand out of her mouth and spat again. “Vell, your dorm’s in this block, right? Do you have some floss I could borrow?”

“Uh. Sure. I guess. You can go get it, my dorm code is 032094.”

“I was always hoping to end up in your dorm, but not quite like this,” Skye said. “And not quite this early. I have standards, Vell, I expect you to be a gentleman.”

“Never been anything but,” Vell said. Skye winked at him and then headed upstairs, leaving Vell behind, more nervous now than he had been facing the Sheeple army.

“You look spooked, Vell,” Harley noted. “The Sheeple giving you the jibblies?”

“No, they’re, uh, among the least horrifying hybrid monstrosities I’ve seen so far,” Vell said. “They got nothing on the Otter Slugs.”

“Hey!” Hawke snapped from down the hall. “We agreed to never talk about those again!”

“Sorry!”

“If not the mutants, then what’s the matter, dear?”

“It’s, you know, this date with Skye…”

“You getting cold feet?” Harley asked. “I thought you really liked Skye.”

Lee briefly glanced at one of their dead Sheeple opponents.

“Is biting a sheep person that much of a turnoff?”

“What? No. I mean, a little. That’s definitely going to be somewhere in my brain if I ever kiss her,” Vell said. This was the first loop, and the experience would be erased from time, but Vell’s mind would always hold a memory of those lips wrapping around a Sheeple hide.

“Then what’s got your jibblies jibbling, bud?”

“It’s just, uh, dating in general,” Vell said. He’d been willing to at least dip his toe into the waters of romance yesterday, but the Sheeple situation had reminded him of the maelstrom that was his personal life. “We got a lot going on and we’re not really making progress with it. Feels weird to be taking time out of my day to date.”

“Vell, come on man, we waste our time on dumber shit than date every day,” Harley said. “Last week I built a robot to chuck french fries into my mouth.”

“And I used hydromancy to make an ice sculpture of a butt,” Lee added

“And you didn’t show it to me?” Harley said, sounding deeply offended.

“It wasn’t a good butt.”

“Still. The point is, Vell, you’re allowed to pursue your own happiness. Life’s always going to be throwing curve balls at you. Can’t let that get in the way of chasing your bliss.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right,” Vell said. “Yeah! I can do this.”

“And you have a great opportunity here on the first loop,” Lee said. “Skye seems to be taking the sheep mutant attack very well. Maybe you can gauge how she might react to some of those strange elements you’re worried about.”

“Maybe a little,” Vell said. He didn’t like to use the loops to gain “advantages” over other people, but he at least liked to be sure new friends wouldn’t try to kill him because of the rune on his back. He tried not to have too many thoughts about Skye potentially murdering him as she descended the stairs and rejoined the group.

“What’s up? I still got something in my teeth?”

“No, we were just discussing our next move,” Lee said. “We were going to head to the genetic engineering lab, after we check a map and find out where-”

“That building,” Skye said, pointing to the west. “Third floor, room number eighty-six.”

Lee did a quick double take and checked the campus map. Skye was right.

“You sure know your way around,” Harley said. “Anyway, while we check that out, Vell wants to solo patrol the whole island cowboy style, and while we appreciate the lone gunslinger schtick, it’s probably not a good idea for him to go alone. We were just arguing over who gets to hang out with him.”

She was laying it on a little thick for Vell’s tastes, but it seemed to work.

“Can I throw my hat in the ring?”

“You’re not wearing a hat.”

“Neither are you.”

“Touche,” Harley said. “Alright, for that clever observation, you win first place.”

Harley forcibly pushed Vell a little closer to Skye. He tried not to blush.

“Take good care of him, be gentle, and remember to give him food and water roughly every eight hours,” Harley said. “And let him out in the yard if he starts chewing on the furniture.”

“Eh, I’m chewing on Sheeple, he can chew on the furniture if he wants to,” Skye said.

“Okay, good, because there’s a delicious looking coffee table in the common room,” Vell said. Skye laughed and followed Vell out the door. Lee and Harley tried to hide their smiles long enough for the newly formed duo to be out of sight. Even after Vell left, the bulk of their smugness was reserved for after they had met up with Kim, Hawke, and Samson.

“You guys look satisfied with yourselves,” Kim noted. Though she had not been in a fight for some time now, her blazing knuckles were still warm and smelled vaguely of lamb chops.

“Oh, nothing, just got Vell laid,” Harley said.

“You can do that whenever you want,” Kim noted. Harley had, in fact, done so frequently, by laying him herself.

“With someone else!”

“Don’t be so lewd about it, Harley, they’re off to have a pleasant chat at best,” Lee said.

“Oh, we both know how this is going to end,” Harley said.

“Hmm. Skye, right?” Hawke guessed. Harley nodded in confirmation. Nobody was surprised at all by the news -though Samson was possibly a bit uncomfortable. Ibrahim and Skye had only gone on two dates, but it still felt odd to have Vell flirting with his brother’s ex.

“Well, hope it works out for him. And her,” Kim said. Her electronic face briefly displayed a thumbs up emoji. “I was technically sort of kind of brainwashed into loving him, but Vell’s still a good boyfriend.”

“Yeah, and Skye’s great too,” Harley said. “She’s a lot like oh my god she’s a werewolf.”

The realization hit Harley like a truck mid-sentence and forced its way out of her mouth the moment it did so. Lee was a few steps behind, and looked at Harley, bewildered.

“What?”

“Skye’s a werewolf,” Harley snapped again. She had just been contemplating how much more normal Skye was than some of Vell’s past dates when all the oddity’s hit her at once. “She likes eating real meat, she wouldn’t hang out with us on the full moon that one time, she wouldn’t touch that necklace you gave her until she knew it wasn’t silver, and she totally tried to take a bite out of that Sheeple just now! Skye’s a fucking werewolf!”

“She’s- oh god,” Lee said. “Oh no.”

“Quick question,” Hawke said. “Why do we care?”

“Yeah. There’s a werewolf in our bocce club,” Kim said. “He’s nice.”

“And he’s very open about it,” Lee said. She had met said werewolf and found him rather polite. “It’s the secrecy that worries me.”

“Vell’s already stressed about this whole dating thing,” Harley said. “If he finds out Skye was keeping something like that from him, it’s going to piss him off so bad.”

“Not to mention the possibility, however remote, that there might be something nefarious about Skye’s secrecy,” Lee added. “In which case we just sent our best friend across campus with a possibly hungry werewolf.”

Harley pursed her lips, let out a long, low hum of displeasure, and made eye contact with Lee. They broke it simultaneously and turned to Kim as one.

“We have to go clean up a mess,” Harley said. “Bye!”

The two dashed off fast enough to kick up a cloud of dust behind them. Kim and Hawke glanced at one another as they ran.

“Do you think they fully forgot about the Sheeple, or do they just have wonk priorities?” Kim asked.

“My money’s on the latter,” Hawke said. Samson reloaded his crossbow and turned away from the relationship drama to focus on the actual lethal problems of the daily apocalypse.

“Is it always like this?”

“Not always,” Hawke said. “But far, far more often than we’d like.”