- Text Size +
Story Notes:

A story I wrote years and years ago that I found tucked away in a corner of my hard drive. I decided to clean it up a bit, change some bits around and post it again (since the original site it was hosted is long, long gone now).

 

Enjoy!

'There is no great genius without a mixture of madness.'
- Aristotle

'My mind is totally blank!'
-Winston Zeddmore

One often has to wonder how I wind up in these messes. Take this one for example.

First allow me to introduce myself. My name is Talia - and I am a Ghostbuster. Yes, like those fellows on Television. My franchise, Ghostbusters International of Chicago, has been in operation for a couple of decades now, one of the very first franchises set up after the Gozer incident back in the eighties. Oh, and don't believe that propaganda about the parent company being forced out of business. It was a pure Hollywood invention after Doctor Venkman sold off the movie rights.

 

Of the five members of the team, I'm the brains of the operation - the mad scientist of the group, if you will.  Now before you get the wrong idea - the idea that I'm a horn rimmed glasses, pocket protected geek - far from it. I'm a twenty two year old, blond hair, green-eyed female (yes - they do have female Ghostbusters, you know). I'm in reasonably good shape - but then you try staying out of shape while carrying an unlicensed nuclear accelerator up 20 flights of stairs while being chased by a class three full torso non-corporeal vapor.


Oh yeah, and I'm approximately 1/8th of an inch tall.

Now of course mind you, this is estimation on my part. But really, when one is talking about scale below half an inch, the whole matter becomes academic. Anyway you slice it, I'm really, really, really small.

Allow me to start at the beginning. I was working early one morning in the lab. Some new equipment arrived from Ghostbusters International Headquarters in New York, several crates of highly sensitive apparatus labeled as a Unified Micro-dimensional Hyper-synthetic Psychomagnatheric Interface unit. Personally I think that Doctor Spengler comes up with the most baffling names on purpose - just so the marketing department of GBI can sell something important sounding to the franchises. Anyway, the new interface unit was designed to attach to the containment unit, to increase the storage space of the grid. In laymen terms, it acts much like a zip utility on computer files, compressing the ectoplasmic field before storage of the unauthorized trans-dimensional entity.

Oh, the theory is quite sound, and very intelligent - provided that I had read the instructions first. No, no - I though that I could just pull the whole unit out of the box and start messing about with it. Oh, the hubris. Oh the humanity.

Anyway, to make a long story short (too late, I know) the packaging, the instructions, the interface unit and me were reduced to the present size. The packing peanuts however remained untouched by the unexpected energy field. Go figure.

Reversing the process would normally be no problem at all - if my power source for the interface weren't the relative size of Madison Square Garden. A spare proton pack and ghost trap was on the fringe of the field and was also reduced - an incompatible energy source for my needs right now, but I'd have to remember those for later.

The lab was a large open room - kind of a combo work/recreation area, with my workbenches and equipment to one side and the television, couches and whatnot to the other. A couple of older classic video games - Defender, Asteroids and the like, stood along the southern wall set apart by the windows in-between them, and a mid sized kitchen table sat in one corner. The table was covered with Chinese take out boxes left from last night, when dinner was interrupted by a call.

I patted down the pockets of my black jumpsuit, and realized abruptly that my cellular phone was sitting on the corner of the table, where I had left it from last night. The irony of the Ghostbuster's jingle line - "Who you gonna call" was not lost on me - so much for getting help. Other items found in my inventory consisted of a pack of tic-tacs (at least I wouldn't go hungry), a Swiss army knife (always useful - just ask Macgyver), a Sharpie permanent marker, a field flashlight, some string and a magnifying glass (just what I needed - to see small things EVEN larger than they already are!). Unfortunately nothing I possessed would immediately turn my 'good fortune' around.

I quickly glanced around, taking in my surroundings. I was on the large field of blue and white tile that covered half of the kitchen portion of the room. Not too far from me was the border to the wood slat portion of the floor that consisted of the lab sections. The low field of brown fuzz that made up the lounge was a good two or three miles away. Super-sized packing peanuts dominated all three landscapes.

Realizing that I was in the middle of a high traffic area - the center of the room, I decided to relocate. Hustling over to where the Proton Pack lay, I quickly gathered up the device. Unfortunately the Ectoplasmic Interface unit was just too large to effectively move all by myself - I could drag it, but that would only slow me down on what was already going to be a long, long walk. Better to have something to defend myself with than a heavy mainly useless paperweight. I slipped the positronic accelerator onto my back and began hiking away to the nearest wall.

The next hour was a surreal journey, made even longer by having to stop and detour around huge cracks in the floor that I would have normally never even noticed. Dust bunnies the size of VW bugs and titanic electronic scraps scattered the countryside. It didn't hit home, however, until I reached the first landmark, a Chinese takeout container that had fallen off the table and landed on its side.

I stepped up onto the lid of the carton, the paper not even moving slightly under my weight. Walking slowly forward and un-slinging my nutrona thrower from the proton pack, I gazed around in wonder. The whole container was roughly the size of a high school basketball stadium. Stopping before a grain of fried rice that was easily two or three times my size, I slowly reached out and touched it. It was a hard, rough feel beneath my fingertips, not at all what I was expecting. Pulling back my hand, I could easily see the oils from the seasoning coating the rice glistening on my fingers. I rubbed the tips of my fingers, watching the shimmer with fascination.

With a start, I realizing that I hadn't had anything to eat this morning - and with my present condition I was unlikely to be able to in the near future. Logic dictated that I should take advantage of the opportunity being handed to me - even if that opportunity was a breakfast of rice larger than I was. I pulled out my Swiss Army Knife, flicked open the blade and dug a chunk out of the grain's side. Spicy, kind of lumpy in an odd sort of way - not exactly what I was expecting at all. After a couple more handfuls, I dug one final piece out, slipping it into a pocket on my jumpsuit for later.

And if rice was plural - as in 'having some rice', then what was having a portion of just one grain? If mouse was mice, would rice be rouse? It was something to ponder later.

My remuneration was suddenly and abruptly interrupted. From the not to distant distance, there was a deep rumbling vibration, throwing me to the ground like I was being tossed from a bucking bronco. Someone else in the building was finally up and heading this way - and I concluded that I was in an all too real danger of being cleaned up and tossed out in the trash. Time to haul some ass.

I emerged from the carton of Chinese take out and looked around. My initial gaze was set far, far too low, and my eyes met a set of knees. Much higher than I was expecting was the barely awake face of Cassandra Stanford - the GBI, Chicago's resident mechanic. I was more the theory and design person of the operation, but she actually was the hands-on person that kept the Ecto-1 running, and toner in the copy machines - all that mechanic side stuff.

Last night's call was a class 6 repeating phantasm - a real tough nut that took all night to bust, resulting in a late night for all of us. Although Cassie had more stamina than the rest of the team, apparently she had just gotten up. Her blue eyes were barely open as she walked. She was currently wearing a loosely fitting navy blue robe tied at the waist, her long red hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her immense bare feet thumped along the ground as she walked.

She walked into the room and stopped short at the field of packing peanuts covering the floor. "Talia? You up?" she asked, glancing around. She crossed to my workstation, apparently in hopes of finding a note or some other indicator of my whereabouts. "Gee - thanks for leaving a mess." She mumbled, spying the packing peanuts.

"Sorry." I said to her, knowing full and well she could never hear me. "Next time, I'll try and coordinate my laboratory accidents to a more convenient time." I hopped off the carton lid and moved away. It was a complication just waiting to happen, one I didn't need at the moment. I awaited her next move.

Her next move? I hadn't even considered my next move, and how to extract myself from this unusual predicament. Some how I had to communicate with one of the team and arrange for them to get some help. Since she was here, Cassie was now the most likely candidate. The easiest way I could come up with was somehow reaching her ear and make my presence known. That or I could shoot her with a quick blast from the proton pack. That option, however, was quickly dismissed - hitting a live being at even a partially reduced nutrona stream would have bad effects on the target. Add in the unknown factor of size differential and you had a recipe for disaster. No, it was apparent that a long climb was the only option available.

I watched her putter about the kitchen, preparing a bowl of coca pebbles. Now that I was expecting it, the tremors set off by her mammoth feet stomping around the kitchen were much more manageable. Think of it as the Godzilla effect from the abominable US movie a few years ago - when the monster first shows up, each step sends cars into the sky - but after that scene, he grew much more lightfooted and the cars stayed put. But I digress.

Eventually she settled down in front of the large screen TV to consume cereal and watch morning cartoons. For some reason, unknown to the rest of the team, Cassandra had a thing for Dragonball Z - why she couldn't watch something more entertaining - something like Star Blazers, I'll never know. However, being Saturday, she was preparing to watch all the episodes she had taped over the last week. That meant that I had a launch window of a little over two hours, not counting her bathroom breaks and other interruptions to reach Cassie. From there - well, who knows. I'm making this up as I go.

The long walk was largely uneventful, and I eventually grew complacent. That's why I was unaware of the strange clicking and scurrying sounds behind me. I spun, coming face to face with a giant monster - or a moderate sized ant. Skinny legs supported a huge, segmented body, a hard shell of a head completing the beast. Giant pinchers waved . . . menacingly at me.

I dove to the left rolling, avoiding the black claws of death as they swooped over my head. As I came to my feet, I brought the proton thrower up, flicking off the safety as I went. A brilliant burst of neon orange and blue light sprang from the tip of the gun, striking the ant. Within moments a leg was neatly removed from the body, spinning the ant towards me in rage. I depressed the trigger, going to a full stream setting. The ant's head melted under the proton streams setting, knocking the body backwards from the force. My legs gave out from under me as the monster collapsed to the floor with a thud.

After some time - how long I don't quite know, I glanced at the TV. The current episode of Dragonball unfolded - this was her third, meaning I only had an hour left to go, baring interruptions. I set out walking. The rest of the journey was uneventful - well at least the journey to my friend. The rest of the trip up her body promised to be plenty eventful.

I approached her right foot from the front, coming to stop about 30 feet away from her little toe. Little, of course is a matter of perspective - it was big as a mansion to me. Slowly, I circled the front of her foot never taking my eyes off the wall of digits beside me. After a few moments, I approached the big toe - a much more appropriate name.

Taking a chance, I crept forward slowly, coming to a stop just a foot or two away from the - um, foot. Everything along this trek was strange enough - but this was the defining moment, to be sure. I slowly reached my hand out to finally touch my friend. Delicately laying the palm of my hand flat against her flesh, I quickly jerked it away, afraid that she'd notice me. As expected, there was no such reaction from Cassie, no indication from her that I was anywhere in the room. I reached out again, more aggressively this time. Her skin was strangely firm yet springy, giving ever so slightly under my touch.

As I ran the tips of my fingers lightly along the toeprint ridges in her skin, I was amazed on how thick and defined they were. The ridges were spaced about a half a foot apart from each other, reaching back for several inches. I flicked my index finger, hitting her. They were strangely firm, yet pliable - much like the rest of her skin. That was fortunate - that would make this portion of the climb that much easier at least.

The scientific portion of my mind kicked in, just for a moment. Moving closer to her, my nose mere inches away from the skin, I focused my eyes as close as I could. Very faintly, almost imperceptibly, I could see the individual cells of her skin. I pulled out my magnifying glass and confirmed - those were her skin cells, and damn was I small. Later, a proper controlled expedition could be made - but this was not the time for observation.

Taking a gamble, I put both hands flat against Cassie and pushed on her toe. Leaning into her with my shoulder did nothing. I started kicking her as hard as I could. I started jumping up and down, pounding on Cassie's toe while shouting at the top of my lungs. I did everything I could think up to try and get her attention. No such luck. I decided to try one last test.

I pulled out my pocketknife again, opening one of the smaller blades. Very gently, I lightly poked her skin with the blade. Not only did Cassie not even notice, the tiny blade not penetrate the epidermis. Feeling braver, I poked much harder - and that she DID notice. More accurately she didn't notice, but her reflexes did. Her toes instinctively curled up and knocked away the source of their irritation - me, before her foot lifted high into the air.

I rolled to a stop several feet away, flipping over just in time to see a wall of flesh rapidly descending on my location. I scrambled as fast as I could, the mass of foot looming ever closer. I dashed out of the way just as the foot completed it's decent. I uncurled from the ball I was in to look around. I was just within the area between the ball of her foot, the arch of her toes and the backside of said digits. The ball of her foot had come within six inches (my scale) of crushing me.

I lay on my back, looking at the flesh sky above me. "That," I proclaimed as loud as I could, "was STUPID". Sometimes the universe just waits for me to get cocky.

Enough testing, examining and hypothesizing. The only way to get back to normal - or what passes for normal around GBI headquarters, was to start climbing. Walking out from between her toes, running my hand along her toe as I went. Coming around to the front of her right foot, I pulled the knife out from where it had remained stuck in the tip of her toe. Adjusted the shoulder straps on my Proton Pack, I looked up for the very first time, seeing just how far the curved wall of flesh stretched into the sky - easily over a hundred feet, perhaps much more.

I reached out, firmly grabbing a ridge of her toeprint in my grasp, and stepped up. Tentatively testing my weight on the folds of Cassie's skin, I grew satisfied that this plan would work.

Then she moved.

Slowly, carefully I began climbing. It was much like climbing a ladder - a ladder made of pink squishy rungs that were unevenly spaced. But all this against it, the task was not that difficult and soon I neared the top of the big toe.

The flesh ladder slowly curved over and leveled out to a plateau, the area of the toe where the flesh separated from the nail as it grew, forming a small ledge for me to rest. I shucked off the proton pack and placed it to one side as I flopped onto my back. As I lay there, looking up, I hit upon another problem. Although Cassie seemed to keep her nails short, I still had a thick barrier of toenail between me and the rest of my journey. The nail stretched out into the distance four or five feet beyond what I could safely reach. I rolled over on my stomach and started idly poking Cassie's tissue as I pondered a solution.

In a moment of shameless, unforgivable emotion, an evil thought crossed my mind. I pulled out my permanent marker. Pulling off the cap, I proceeded to write, "Talia was here" as small as I could on my friend's skin. Admittedly, nobody would EVER be in a position to see the planet's smallest graffiti, and it would wear off soon enough - it was simply fun in a mindless way.

Suddenly the whole toe started to gyrate, shake, quiver and move. I was an the middle of an 8.10 earthquake in a snowglobe set on a paint shaking machine you find at every hardware store. In mid panic, I grabbed a strap on the Proton pack and roughly jammed my hands into the area where skin separates from nail and hung on for dear life. The sensation felt vaguely mushy as I clung desperately to my friend's toe - I'm certain that she never even noticed. Turning my head I looked around at what was happening. We were standing up and heading out of the room.

* * * *

Cassardra grumbled as the opening credits to the last Dragonball episode rolled to completion. Cartoon Network seemed to be conspiring to show the exact same episode over and over again whenever the Ghostbusters weren't busy and she had some free time. There were over 200 episodes - not all of them translated in English, of course - but Cassie seemed to have the strange power to record the same 10 or so shows over and over again.

It was enough to make her give up and watch Star Blazers.

Catching the time, Cassie set aside the half completed bowl of coco pebbles, and stood up. The rest of the team would be getting up soon, and it wouldn't do for them to see her like this (either in the half dressed state OR watching a kids show). Turning off the TV, she turned and walked out of the room, scattering packing peanuts in her wake.

She was also completely unaware that her best friend was currently clinging to a toe on that same foot that was used to scatter peanuts everywhere.

Heading out into the hall, she passed the only other awake occupant of the building - Spot the Cat, a small gray tabby. Spot had occupied the building long before GBI: Chicago had moved in. Since she graciously allowed the Ghostbusters to stay and put up with their antics, the team more than happily paid her rent - in the form of a can of cat food every day. She was satisfied with the arrangement.

Slipping into her room and shutting the door, Cassie slipped out of her robe and tossed it on the chair next to the desk. Crossing to the dresser, she started opening drawers and pulling out clothes - girlie things, shorts and a loose fitting red shirt that flowed about her - totally bypassing the gray jumpsuit uniform unceremoniously dumped on the foot of the bed. "Only if we get a call" she thought to herself. She grabbed a pair of socks from off the floor, and poised to put them on - but it promised to be a nice august day. She could get by with just sandals if she needed to. She threw the socks on a pile of dirty laundry by the dresser and quickly headed out the door.

As she exited her room, she bumped into Gustav Sandor Rex the III - GBI, Chicago's spin-doctor, answer man and otherwise public relations officer. He also made a mean lasagna. "You seen Talia anywhere?" Cassie asked.

"No, why?" he murmured sleepily - obviously also having just gotten up.

"She disappeared after leaving a godawful mess in the lounge . . . AGAIN!" she said, storming back to the lounge door, gesturing inside.

Gustav put a hand on her shoulder, trying to defuse Cassie's mood. "You know how she gets sometimes - stuck on a project somewhere and unable to tell us what's going on. I'm sure she'll pop up soon enough."

Hopefully that would be truer than either of them would know.

* * * *

Hanging on to my friend was easy enough to do - it was all in getting in the rhythm of her walking. I managed to get the hang of it just as we entered the field of packing peanuts - just in time for Cassie to kick peanuts everywhere and almost dislodging me. I managed to regain my grip as the foot the size of a battleship crushed the Unified Micro-dimensional Hyper-synthetic Psychomagnatheric Interface unit without any effort at all. Fortunately the sensitive device did not explode or otherwise malfunction, as Ghostbuster equipment often tends to do when destroyed. Unfortunately the destruction of the unit just cost the franchise its entire profit margin for August and probably most of September. I winced.

The shaking and rattling stopped for a moment, as Cassie stopped to pet Spot. Not every Ghostbuster franchise has a ghost, goblin, spud or slimer for a pet. Some didn't even have pets - but we settled for a mundane one. Now, several mile high Ghostbusters I could cope with, but thousand foot cats - now this was just weird. I watched as Spot's nose came in close to me and my toe, clearly sniffing something out of the ordinary (a micro-Ghostbuster, perhaps?). I could almost touch Spot's nose, certainly feel the effects around me as she breathed in - but I wisely decided to stay put.

Then, I suddenly had a bad feeling about this. I pulled myself up just in time as Cassie knelt down to pet Spot. She was leaning forward on the balls of her feet, compressing the area where I was currently hanging on. Suddenly I found myself forced into a small pocket between nail and skin. Although the nail was hard and unforgiving, the flesh was soft and yielding. Soft as a waterbed, firm as a futon - an odd sensation. Within seconds, however, it was over. We were on the move again.

New stop, Cassie's room. I used this period while she was stationary to secure myself again, just in time to see her grab a pair of socks from the floor and sit on the bed.

This, in a word, was going to suck.

She came within moments of covering me in white fabric and making my job that much more difficult before she decided to abort the whole sock process. As I was counting my blessings, we were heading out the door again.

"You seen Talia anywhere?"

"Why? You miss me?" I responded as I carefully slid along under her nail to the near right side of the toe.

"She disappeared after leaving a god awful mess in the lounge . . . AGAIN!"

"Geze - sorry for becoming distracted while I'm shrunk! I'll get right on this cleaning up!" I shouted as I reaching the point on the outside of her toe where the skin and nail meet. Fine - Gustav and Louis can make all the mess they want on poker night, but I have ONE small lab accident, and Cassie starts coming down all over me. I'm going to have a talk with her when I get back to normal.

My grumbling was cut short, as we started moving again. Fortunately the journey was brief, as Cassie headed back into the lounge. After a few moments of her puttering around, picked up one of the company's Playstation controllers and she settled in playing Giant Robo Fighter II. The sounds of video games filled the room far above me.

As she sat back in the couch, Cassandra crossed her legs - the foot I was on remaining on the ground. I looked up, high in the sky, gazing at the left leg bouncing and shaking far above me. "Thank god I'm not on that one - I'd be seasick in half an hour!"

I pulled myself up, over onto the top of her big toe nail. As I lay there, proton pack to my side, I realized that I had a few moments to myself. Curious about my surroundings (a scientist to the core, dontchyaknow), I reached out and ran my palm across the surface. The texture of her nail was surprisingly smooth beneath my touch, and yet exceedingly lumpy. Every distortion and warp of the nail's growth was quite evident in all the ridges and valleys I could feel. The material was quite porous, giving the odd feel another dimension to it all together. I looked over to the cuticle, as thick as my finger, and picked at it. It felt like a leathery paper beneath my touch.

I rapped my knuckles on the hard surface and looked up at the giantess beyond. No indication that she had even noticed.

Enough rambling - it was time to make progress. I got up and started walking along her toe to the rest of the foot and beyond. . .

Now that the ground was relatively flat (and not moving), my travels were much easier going. After a few moments, I arrive at the ledge of flesh that made up where the edge of her nail met the skin. A short distance after that I reached the first indicator that I was making progress - the knuckle of the Cassie's big toe. Sprouting up from the skin were several fine hairs, vaguely blond colored. Normally you'd have to really look to notice these hairs, but at the scale I was at, they were as big around as a moderate sized tree.

This was the first time that my size had truly sunk in to my head. Sure, encounters with giant ants, a feast made from a grain of rice and a half an hour climb up a toe several times larger than a house were all good indicators - but this, this was terribly surreal. I stretched out my arms and reached around the closest hair to me. On the other side, I could just barely touch fingertips. Very surreal.

Letting go, I backed up, getting a closer look, staring at the intricate makeup of the hair, how her mighty follicle beneath my feet composed the layout in a complex design. It was very beautiful - and awe inspiring. This was just one hair, and I was standing in a patch of several. Very intimidating.

As I was staring deeply into the hair, the skin beneath my feet started moving again. As I was thrown to the ground (uh, skin), I clung to the hair for dear life. Fortunately, the tremors ended just as soon as they begun. I looked around and saw that we were not moving; only that Cassie was flexing her toes and simply shifting a fraction of an inch. That much power and potential for catastrophe, contained in one tiny, thoughtless movement? I had better get climbing.

I had managed to walk as far as the back slope of Cassie's foot without interruption - only minor earthquakes, uh - footquakes slowed my progress. I looked up at her right leg looming over my head, the crinkles in her skin stretching off into the distance. It had taken me at least an hour to make it this far, and the 150 pounds of unlicensed nuclear accelerator on my back - well, I'll put it frankly - it's turning into a pain the ass.

I briefly considered pitching the proton pack over the side, but that's irresponsible Ghostbusting - we'd never be able to find it again when I got back to normal, and it might get stepped on in the meantime. Microscopic or not, it still would make an impressive explosion.

The wrinkles were not as easy going as the flesh ladder I had on Cassies big toe. Much more pliable, much smaller and spaced further apart. I never knew I had it so good on her toe. Wonderful.

It took me a brief period before I reached her first leg hair. The hairs on her leg were about half again as thick as her toe hair - more than thick enough to support my weight (such as it is) without bending or breaking off. Fortunately we had been busy with calls over the last few days, and she hadn't had time for extravagant hygiene like this. During crunch time, unless you were covered with ectoplasm, coated with caked on mood slime, or otherwise dripping with some otherworldly substance - you cut corners here and there. Well, except for showers - you bust the undead, not smell like them.

Oh dear. If today was slow, and Cassie had plenty of free time, she might very well catch up on these little details. If I was unlucky, I could easily be shaved away with an errant hair, or caught up in a mountain of shaving cream. This could be . . . bad.

I started climbing like a madman, working my way from hair to hair as fast as I could. It was easy going for the most part - all the way up until we started moving again. I grabbed on to the hair I was on as best I could and hung on for dear life.

Oh crap - we were heading for the bathroom.

* * * *

Cassie was sitting on the far end of the couch in the lounge, Playstation controller in her hand. At the other end of the couch was Carmen Spencer - the weapons/demolition/combat/military expert of the team. Carmen was a tall muscular red-head who had started her career as a marine, who had spent time running guns in Ethiopia, then worked as a mercenary for the gulf war (on the other side) and had more black belts in more martial arts than Jet Li, Chuck Norris, Jackie Chan, Billy Quan, and Bruce Lee all rolled into one.

You could understand Carmen's frustration as Cassie body slammed her Giant Robo character for the eighth time in a row.

"You know - I can kill you fourteen different ways with this gamepad. Seven of them would be undetectable in most autopsies." Carmen said, hefting the playstation controller in her left hand.

"Yeah, but then you'd never get that ten bucks I owe you." Cassie retorted.

"A small price to pay for a HUGE amount of satisfaction." She said, tossing the controller to the floor and folding her arms across her chest. Cassie met her stare unwaveringly

"Grumpy?"

Carmen stood up and walked over to the game shelf. "Want to play Command and Conquer for a while?"

"As if - I actually want to play something I can win against you at." Cassie leaned forward and absently scratched her left leg. A dim awareness went off in her head - 'damn, I haven't shaved in a while'. "Anyway, isn't that too much like your off time?"

"Fine be like that."

"Ok, fine - I will." Cassie uncrossed her legs and slid forward on the couch. "So did the big bad marine use up all the hot water in the shower?"

"You expect me to use hot water? Hot? Get real. Anyway - I only take 45 second showers."

"And I'm sure the world is a better place for it." Cassie stood up. "You don't know how much that thrills me. You really don't." Throwing her hair over her shoulder, she strode out of the lounge. "See you later, solder."

It only took a few seconds to reach the bathroom. Cassie headed out into the hall, and down the corridor to the fire pole. Without missing a beat, she stepped out into air and grabbed the brass shaft, sliding to the next level down. She crossed the little landing, heading directly into the bathroom. A few seconds later, Spot was unceremoniously shooed out of the room as the door was closed.

Sitting on the edge of the tub, she ran her hands up and down her legs. "Ooooh, itchy!" she said, scratching her stomach. She reached for a big ol' can of Barbasol shaving cream, squirted a goodly amount into her hand, and set to work on her right leg - totally unaware of her friend's existence mid way up her thigh . . .

* * * *

I realized a plan as soon as the dark shadow of Cassie's hand loomed over me. If successful, not only would it save me hours and hours of climbing, more importantly it would rescue me from this imminent disaster that was about to strike.

Watching as her left hand started at the top of her right leg, and started descending with amazing swiftness, I moved into position. As Cassie's hand moved closer, I jumped. Fate, the Force - whatever you chose to call it was with me. I managed to grab hold of the tip of her middle finger, right on the edge of her fingernail. I hung on desperately as the world wooshed past at hundreds and hundreds of miles an hour. The distance that it had just taken me several hours to cover took a fraction of a second down and back again.

I realized that although a temporary measure, I was just as bad off where I was now as where I had been. I looked up, and saw Cassie's wall of stomach coming right at me. Inspiration struck, and as the hand made a close pass to her navel, I leaped again. Within seconds my wild ride was over as I thudded to a stop against the firm stomach flesh.

Shaking my head, I slowly stood up. That's right - I was so small, so insignificant, that not only could I easily stand up in Cassie's belly button, Even stretching, I don't think I could have touched the top. Every stop along my friend's body just seemed to hammer home how tiny I was.

Suddenly Cassie's abdominal muscles folded, closing off the opening, blocking all light. She must be working on her legs, I thought as I reached for my lamp. Fortunately I was far enough back inside her to avoid accidentally being squished by countless megatons of stomach flesh.

I reached out with one slender finger, gently poking Cassie. Her flesh gave slightly under my touch - I wonder if she could feel me here better. I shucked off my proton pack, laying it gently to one side and tried again. I poked harder and harder each time, doing my best to tickle my friend - but with no success. Even her reflexes didn't notice me in the slightest.

By this time the light returned, and I felt motion under my feet. My unwitting host was returning to her room, it appeared. I carefully walked to the opening of her navel and looked around. Her mid-drift stretched into the distance forever, framed by the distant mountains of her breasts. This was going to be the most difficult part of the journey - nothing really to use as a handhold along the way.

I glanced at my watch - it was getting on to about two in the afternoon. Then, a thought - what if I waited for the rest of the day to pass, and for her to go to bed. The vertical climb would turn into a horizontal walk - much easier to manage!

Screw it. I was safe, I was tired -it was reasonably soft where I was at. I was - I had the beginning of a plan. I was staying put.

I curled up as far back inside Cassie as possible, where the belly button eventually closed off, even on my scale. Setting the pack down, I pulled off my jumpsuit and wadded it up underneath my head. Within seconds I was asleep.

You must login (register) to review.